The Path Home
by ManateeMama
Summary: Even though Brenda is now working in the District Attorney's Office, an issue from her LAPD past is still haunting her. This story begins five months after the series ended.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: While this story stands alone, it does reference some of my previous works. You might enjoy reading them for additional background information so I will mention the titles as they are referenced.**

**And last, but certainly not least, I cannot thank Labyrinth enough for her help with the technical issues involved in PTSD therapy.**

**Chapter 1:**

_What was that? _Brenda awoke with a start. She was sure she had heard a noise. Was it in her sleep, or was it real? She wasn't sure, but despite her lack of certainty, she began to hyperventilate. Her heart was pounding, she was sweating, and she had balled the sheets up in her fists. She looked over at Fritz. He was sleeping peacefully beside her and she didn't want to wake him, but she resolved that if she heard it again, she would. She lay there and didn't hear it.

Through the window she watched the moon doing its eternal dance with the clouds. Gradually her body regained control. _I'm imaginin' things again. I'm just bein' silly,_ she mentally scolded herself. Then she heard it again. It was coming from the bathroom. A scratching noise.

It was _him_. Phillip Stroh was coming through the window again. All of her synapses were going off like sparklers and she was only partially able to stifle her scream.

Fritz opened his eyes. "Brenda? What's wrong?"

She didn't answer. She just got out of bed and removed her gun from her dresser drawer. Fritz was instantly fully awake. The moonlight illuminated her hand holding the gun. It was shaking. He got out of bed and moved cautiously to her side. Very carefully he took the gun from her hand as he whispered, "Let me have it." Once he had put the gun back in the drawer, he put his arms around her and whispered, "He's not here, honey. Phillip Stroh is in jail. He can't hurt you again."

"No, Fritz, he's here. I heard him. He came in through the bathroom window." Urgency and fear infused her whisper.

"You must have heard Joel."

"No, it's _him_!"

"All right, wait here. I'm going to check the house."

"No, I'm comin' with you. We need the gun," she whispered as she opened the drawer again. Fritz reached in first and took it in order to placate her and keep the gun out of her still shaking hands.

Brenda's breathing was still shallow and her whole body was quaking. But Fritz knew she wouldn't get back into bed so he nodded and put his arm around her as they walked through the duplex, turning on all the lights as they moved through each room. He checked all the windows and locks and they did a complete walk-through, checking every conceivable hiding place as they moved. When they reached the bathroom, Brenda began shaking even more violently.

Fritz turned on the light and said, "See, honey, the window is locked. No one came in through the window." He opened the shower door. "And see? There's no one in the shower. Everything is ok."

Brenda nodded and shut her eyes for a minute. "I'm sorry, Fritzi. I know you think I'm just bein silly but I really did hear it. Twice."

"What did you hear?"

"_Stroh_. He was tryin' to get in the window."

Just then they both heard a scratching noise. Fritz started toward the sound to check it out, but Brenda grabbed his arm. "NO! He'll kill you!" Her whisper was panicky.

"Honey, it's not Stroh. It's all right." He pried his arm out of her grip and moved to the window, opened it and looked out. "I think I see what it is. There's a bush rubbing against the side of the house. I'll fix it. You go back to bed."

"No. I'm comin' with you."

They each pulled jeans over their night clothes. Brenda grabbed a flashlight and held it for Fritz as he broke off the branch that was rubbing against the building in the wind.

When they finally returned to bed, he laid there listening until Brenda's breathing became deep, slow and regular before he finally allowed himself to fall back asleep.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Fritz debated bringing up a sore subject. In the past, whenever he'd suggested that Brenda get therapy to help her deal with the trauma of Stroh's attack, she'd just about bitten his head off so he'd dropped the subject. But five months later, she was still obviously traumatized. It was time to insist.

"Honey, I'm worried. This Stroh thing is still a problem."

"Fritzi, I'm fine. I don't need to see a therapist. I heard that branch. It was real, not imagined."

"I know it was real. But the point is that you were terrified that it was Phillip Stroh. If everything were fine you would have known that what you heard couldn't possibly have been him. You would have realized that it was just a branch and would have gone back to sleep. I think we need to get some help."

"I don't need to see a shrink. I am not crazy."

"I know you're not crazy. But we need some help with this. I need help with it too. And I want you to come with me."

"Oh, right. You need help," she replied sarcastically.

"Yes, I do. We both do, and I'm going to call Dr. Leonard today."

"She works for the LAPD. She isn't gonna see us."

"Then she can recommend someone. But I'm calling her today."

Brenda just glared at him over her coffee cup and replied, "Suit yourself, but it's a big waste of time and money."

Fritz took one last gulp of coffee, got up and put his dishes in the dishwasher. Then he turned back to Brenda. "We both have insurance and we need more sleep than we're getting now, so just humor me, ok?"

She still didn't want to see a therapist but also didn't want a fight, so she just shot him an annoyed look and said nothing.

"We'll get through this together, honey," Fritz said as he kissed her goodbye.

_I guess I have been keepin' him up nights. _But since she still didn't like the idea of seeing a therapist, she employed a well-worn defense._ Well, I can't think about it right now. I have to get to work. _And with that thought, she blocked it from her mind.

* * *

Later that morning, Fritz called her. "Honey, I called Dr. Leonard and explained what we're dealing with. She also maintains a small private practice and she agreed to see us."

"See me, you mean," Brenda replied sourly.

"No, I said us and I meant us. You're not the only one who needs help with this. I need help too, so we've got an appointment to go together." He gave her the date and time. "If you can't do it then, I'll change it, but this has to be a priority for both of us."

"Fritz, I told you this mornin' that I don't want to see a therapist."

"Well, I do and I need you to go with me. This is a problem for both of us. Now, can you make this appointment or not?"

Brenda took out her calendar and heaved a big sigh for dramatic effect. "I guess that's as good a date as any. I'll pencil it in."

"Not pencil, in ink. Or better yet, with a Sharpie," Fritz countered.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I don't have a Sharpie but I wrote it in ball point pen. Is that good enough for you?"

"I guess it'll have to do. Just make sure that you underline it." But when his little attempt at humor brought only a frozen silence, he simply said, "Thank you, honey. It means a lot to me."

"I guess I should say 'you're welcome' but that's not really what I want to say."

Fritz knew she was perilously close to changing her mind so he just told her he'd see her at home and ended the call.

* * *

After filling out the initial paperwork they spent the next 15 minutes sitting in Dr. Leonard's waiting room. Brenda scanned the patient notices and artwork on the walls, then picked up a couple of magazines and flipped through the pages without seeing them. The heel of her shoe was broadcasting her emotional state in a kind of staccato Morse code so Fritz touched her hand to quiet her and whispered, "Stop."

_It looks just the same, _Brenda thought when they were called into the office. Dr. Leonard greeted them and gestured for them to take a seat on the couch.

When they were seated, the doctor explained that the purpose of the first meeting was to assess the problem that Fritz had referenced in his phone call, and to discuss treatment options. She then asked them to describe the problems they were experiencing.

Brenda sat rigidly on the couch and said, "I feel like we're wastin' your time, Doctor. I'm fine."

Fritz gave her an annoyed look, turned to Dr. Leonard and said, "No, we're not fine."

"I am _not_ crazy," Brenda countered defiantly.

"No, I don't think you're crazy, Brenda. I think you're an incredibly strong woman. But I also suspect that you could use some help with this," Dr. Leonard explained. "Do you want to tell me about the incident last week?"

When she didn't answer, Fritz turned to her and asked, "Do you want to describe what happened last week, or do you want me to?"

Brenda, irritated, replied, "Since this whole thing was your idea, why don't you tell her?"

"Last week, my wife woke up in the middle of the night…" Fritz began but was interrupted by Dr. Leonard.

"Excuse me, Fritz. But since it sounds like you, Brenda, experienced this event, I'd like to hear about it from you," the doctor explained.

Brenda sighed and recounted waking up and hearing a strange noise. "Fritz discovered that it was a branch scrapin' the side of the house and we took care of it."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that was it. Oh, and we went back to bed," Brenda added.

Dr. Leonard then turned to Fritz and said, "Do you have anything to add?"

"Yes, my wife omitted some of the critical details." Fritz replied, his irritation matching his wife's. He then filled in the missing parts of the story and concluded by saying, "She has had a lot of experiences like that and I felt it was time that we both got some help."

"But they're gettin' better," Brenda said, "So I don't think I need help."

"Feeling vulnerable enough that you need a gun to protect yourself must, in itself, be extremely traumatic," Dr. Leonard observed.

"Doctor, I am… I _was_ a police officer. My job, for over fourteen years, was catchin' murderers. I always needed a gun. It was as basic to my line of work as this couch we're sittin' on is to yours. And, besides, I'm an excellent shot."

"That's true, you are an exceptionally good marksman," Fritz said taking her hand, "But you were shaking so hard last week that I was really afraid that you'd shoot either yourself or me."

"But how many times have you needed a gun to protect yourself in your own home?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"Off hand, three times that I can recall." Brenda was trying to sound casual.

Dr. Leonard dropped her eyes and made a note on her legal pad and then continued. "Are you still carrying a gun?"

"Yes, I am. Stroh may be in jail but there are other criminals I arrested who have relatives and friends who carry grudges. I would be in danger without it."

"So you don't think that grabbing your gun in reaction to these flashbacks places you and others in danger?"

"Not as dangerous as not bein' prepared if someone else came after me." Brenda's jaw was set.

"I can't order you to lock up your gun, but I think you ought to consider that carrying your gun while you're having flashbacks is extremely dangerous."

"Doctor, I am _not_ givin' up my gun. Besides, I'm so busy durin' the day that I only have flashbacks when I'm home at night. And, like I said, they're gettin' better."

Dr. Leonard didn't have any legal ground to compel Brenda to surrender her weapon but she suggested, "I'd like you to think about the potential consequences of reaching for your gun during a flashback." When Brenda didn't respond she continued, "But for now, why don't you describe your involvement with Mr. Stroh."

Brenda gave an abbreviated summary of her investigations of Phillip Stroh, his breaking into their home, and his attack on her and Rusty, and finally having to shoot him.

"That was a horrible ordeal. Have you had nightmares about it?" Dr. Leonard asked them both.

"No. Well, a few right after it happened, but none lately."

"I see. What about you, Fritz? Have you had any nightmares?"

"Yes, I keep on having one nightmare."

"You do? You never told me that," Brenda said.

"They started when you were in Atlanta. I didn't want to make you feel responsible for them. You were dealing with enough," he explained.

"Can you tell me about it?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"A couple of years ago I assisted Brenda in investigating the rape of several undocumented women and the murder of one of them. The man who did it turned out to be an officer in the Immigration and Customs Enforcement Bureau. When I caught up with him he was holding one woman hostage. He was pointing a gun at Brenda and threatening to shoot them both. I came around the side of the building and was able to shoot and kill him just as he was about to fire at Brenda.

"In my dream, he's holding the woman and pulling the trigger. But they morph into Stroh and my wife. He's killing Brenda and I can't get to her and I can't shoot him. I'm completely..." Fritz was overwhelmed with emotion and was unable to finish his sentence.

Immediately Brenda turned to him, put her arms around him, and teared up. "I never knew… I never knew you were hurtin' too."

Dr. Leonard offered them a box of tissues and waited until they both regained control. "This is not uncommon. PTSD doesn't only affect the person who experienced the trauma. Whole families can be involved. But the good news is that I think we can work through this so you both can put it behind you."

"I'd like that for both of us, Doctor. But Brenda has to want it, as well."

When Brenda heard that, she sighed and stared at her hands but she was immediately challenged by Dr. Leonard. "Brenda, how does it make you feel hearing that Fritz is also feeling the effects of your encounter with Mr. Stroh?"

Brenda didn't look up because she didn't want Dr. Leonard to see her blinking back tears, but those tears made their way into her voice. "Not good. I never wanted my job to hurt Fritz in any way. If our home hadn't been a crime scene he never would have…" Her voice trailed off.

"Never would have what? I never would have felt anything? I never would have been bothered by it?" Fritz was amazed and angry. "Brenda, you're my wife. How could you believe that I wouldn't be affected by someone trying to kill you? Or maybe you thought you just wouldn't tell me. That's it, isn't it?"

When Brenda didn't respond, he turned to Dr. Leonard and said, "This is classic Brenda. She hides things all the time that she thinks I won't like."

Still fighting back tears, Brenda replied, "Fritz, there was nothin you could have done. What would have been the point?"

"The point, Brenda, is that I'm your husband. I love you. And I need to know when someone hurts you. Even if I can't go out and arrest him, I still need to know so I can help you, so we can deal with it together."

Dr. Leonard asked Brenda, "How do you feel about what Fritz just said?"

"Oh, I understand what he's sayin', Dr. Leonard. But I'm not doin' it to hurt him. I just don't want to upset him when there's nothin' he can do about the situation."

"But, see Brenda, it's you hiding things from me that makes me mad," Fritz replied.

"Fritz, you say that you get angry when Brenda hides things from you. Yet you hid your nightmares from her."

Neither Fritz nor Brenda responded but Fritz's surprised look told Dr. Leonard that he hadn't considered that his keeping things from Brenda was a problem too.

"We will work on improving communication. But right now I want to go back to the Stroh shooting." Dr. Leonard then turned back to Brenda. "When I saw you several years ago, you had just been hit with a cattle prod and had been forced to shoot your assailant. It sounds like a similar situation. Are you experiencing the same things now that you did then?"

"No, actually, they're not the same. I know you didn't believe me when I told you, but I really was fine. Oh, the cattle prod burns were painful, but I didn't have any nightmares, flashbacks, nothin' bad at all."

"Why do you suppose that's true?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's partly because I was able to regain control of the situation pretty quickly. I had a much harder time with Stroh."

"Didn't you have to shoot them both?"

"Yes, but other things in my life were happenin' at the same time that I shot Mr. Jones. I was diagnosed with early onset menopause and Fritz proposed. Oh, and my parents were comin' to visit, and we were house huntin'. I didn't have time to get all upset about somethin' I got control over so quickly."

"You killed Danny Jones just a few minutes after you met him," Fritz added. "You've been obsessed with Phillip Stroh for years. Doctor, she turned our spare bedroom into a satellite Murder Room. She had pictures of all of his victims up on the wall. And she even went so far as to send flowers to Stroh to commemorate the day that he killed that woman."

"So you were obsessed with Stroh and not with Jones," Dr. Leonard observed. "Do you think it was healthy to invest so much of your time and energy in pursuing Phillip Stroh?"

"Fritz thinks I was obsessed with him," Brenda admitted and then attempted to acquit herself. "But if it hadn't been for me, Stroh would still be out there rapin' and killin' women. It took me four years to finally get Stroh, and that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't kept focusin' on him."

Brenda wanted to divert the attention from her long lasting obsession of Phillip Stroh. "But, as far as shootin' Stroh is concerned, you have to understand. I had no choice. He broke into my home and almost killed both a teenage boy and me. And Stroh and Danny Jones weren't the only people I've had to shoot. Oh, it was never pleasant, and I always wished it hadn't been necessary, but it's an unavoidable part of the job."

"So you're telling me that you've had trauma after trauma."

"I guess I don't look at it like that. The way I see it, if you're gonna be chasin' down murderers you have to know that they're gonna fight back. Shootin' them was awful, but if I hadn't, they would have most likely killed me or someone in my squad."

"So you see it as a kill or be killed situation?"

"Sometimes it is, but not always. I usually was able to catch the murderer without havin' to fire my weapon. But sometimes it was just unavoidable. I suppose I could have worked parkin' meters, but gettin' justice for the victims of violent crimes was why I became a police officer in the first place. It's what I have always wanted to do. And sometimes that meant that I had to shoot the murderer."

Dr. Leonard nodded her understanding and said, "It sounds like the two of you have faced the same thing that our soldiers face on the battlefield."

"I think I've had to use my weapon more than Fritz has, but it's not somethin' either one of us has to do very often," Brenda replied.

"I didn't mean to suggest that you find yourself in a battlefield situation on a daily basis, Brenda. But can you understand that on the occasions that you are being attacked, that your mind and even your body rebels against that situation? After all, your brain is hardwired to protect you, and it doesn't turn itself off automatically after you put your gun away."

Brenda thought about it for a second and answered, "I guess that makes sense."

Simultaneously, Fritz said, "Yes, I can see that." Then he continued, "Maybe that's why my nightmare always starts with Agent Myers and Marisol."

"That's very likely," Dr. Leonard agreed. "Just knowing that someone was trying to kill another person would have been traumatic. Add to that the fact that he also intended to kill your wife, and then you had to kill him. That would probably be impossible for you to handle on your own."

Fritz nodded. "It was horrible, and I had nightmares about it for weeks afterwards."

"I'm sure it was. And it can have severe consequences. It can make someone suicidal. Have either of you thought about committing suicide or have you ever attempted suicide?"

"No, never," Brenda said.

"No," Fritz said simultaneously.

"Good. I think that you'd both find couples therapy helpful so I'd like to make another appointment for you both. And Brenda, I'd like to give you a prescription for something to take to prevent more of those flashbacks. But first, I need to ask you both if either of you have ever abused substances."

"I'm an alcoholic, Dr. Leonard, so I don't want to take any medication," Fritz explained, "But I'll come back for my next appointment."

"Are you drinking now?"

"No, I've been clean and sober for over ten years now."

"Have you ever abused any other drugs?"

"I used pot in college," Fritz admitted.

"I ate some brownies once that had marijuana in them, but I didn't know it. That was the only time," Brenda added.

"All right," Dr. Leonard then turned to Brenda, "What about you? Are you also an alcoholic?"

"No, I'm not. I drink a glass of wine almost every day but I usually have just one glass. And I don't feel I have to have it." Fritz's nod verified what his wife was saying.

"Have you ever abused any other substances besides your experiences with pot?"

Brenda remembered a case in which she smoked hashish in Azerbaijan in order to protect her CIA cover, but knew she couldn't discuss that. "Fritz thinks I'm addicted to sugar, especially chocolate," Brenda admitted.

"Brenda, the prescription I have in mind is an antidepressant to help eliminate those flashbacks. Fritz, since it doesn't sound like your nightmares are as severe as Brenda's flashbacks and I understand your objections, I won't prescribe anything for you."

Dr. Leonard wrote out an appointment card and a prescription for Brenda and, when she saw the hesitation on Brenda's face, said, "This is a proven medication. You'll need to take one tablet daily and you should start seeing results in about two weeks."

After Dr. Leonard described the possible side effects, Brenda hesitated, "I don't know, Doctor."

"The side effects generally are experienced by adolescents. Please trust me and take the prescription anyway. You need to call me if you experience any of the side effects I mentioned, but I doubt that you will. I think you'll find it helpful."

Fritz tried a joke. "It may keep you from shooting me by accident."

Brenda shot him an annoyed look but she took the prescription and dropped it into her purse.

Dr. Leonard concluded the session by saying, "I'm glad you both came to see me. I'm sure that, if we all work together, we can have a successful outcome."

"Thank you, Dr. Leonard," they both said as they left the office.

* * *

In the car, Brenda noticed that Fritz had taken a detour and asked, "Where are we goin'?"

"To the drugstore so you can fill that prescription."

"Fritz, I don't think I want to fill it. I don't need to be takin' tranquilizers."

"Dr. Leonard said it's an antidepressant, not a tranquilizer. And you don't need to be carrying your gun when you're shaking like a leaf, either. Believe me, I'd rather you take a pill than pick up your gun. And wouldn't it be worth it if the flashbacks disappeared?"

"The gun wasn't loaded," Brenda lied.

"Remember, I carried it too so I know it had a clip in it," Fritz countered as he pulled into the drugstore parking lot, "So give me the prescription and you can wait in the car."

"No, I'm comin' in too. There are some other things I need to pick up while we're waitin'." So, while Fritz took care of the prescription, Brenda filled a basket with shampoo, conditioner, and cosmetics.

_To be continued…_

**And now, please review. Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter references my stories "Christmas with the Family" and "After the Bullets". Again, it stands alone so you don't need to read those stories in order to enjoy this one. But I'm posting the titles in case you missed them.**

**Be sure to read Labyrinth's latest chapter of "Welcome Her Home with Red Roses", bandbalso's "A Double Eagle Encounter", as well as ProcrastinationQueen's sweet "Love Through the Dark".**

**Also, a reader alert is in order. In this chapter Brenda discusses her attempted rape and murder by Phillip Stroh.**

**Chapter 2:**

At breakfast the following morning, Brenda asked, "What does your day look like?"

"I'm going to be in the field with Bruno Hechsler just about all day. He's working a forgery case and his partner is on medical leave, so I said I'd help him out. What about you?"

"I'm gonna go to court. Everyone seems to be complainin' about the case a new DDA was assigned. For some reason she chose to have a preliminary hearin' and it's this mornin'. I want to see if there's anythin' Investigations can do to help her. Oh, and don't forget that I'm gonna go with Andrea to her spa tonight after work."

"Are you two going to get something to eat afterward?"

"We haven't talked about it. Why?"

"I'm just wondering if I need to grab something to eat on my own."

"No, I don't feel like sushi and that's where Andrea always wants to go. I'll bring somethin."

"Ok. I'll plan on you picking up dinner on your way home, then. Just call me if you change your mind."

"Ok," Brenda replied while finishing her coffee.

As Fritz rose he noticed her prescription bottle on the counter so he picked it up and put it on the table in front of her. "Don't forget this."

"I already told you I'm not gonna take it."

"Why not?"

"I don't need it. And didn't you hear Dr. Leonard recitin' all the side effects?" she asked.

"And didn't you hear her say that the side effects were felt mostly by teenagers?"

"I don't need it." Brenda was adamant.

"Yes, you do. That last flashback was dangerous."

"It was just a twig, Fritz. It wasn't dangerous at all."

"The twig wasn't dangerous, but holding your gun and shaking so hard that you couldn't control it was." He stopped and studied her for a minute before continuing. "Look, you need this so just take it."

"Fritz, I don't know how many ways to say it. I don't need it and I'm not gonna take it."

"Sometimes you just drive me crazy," he said as he closed his briefcase and headed out the back door.

Brenda couldn't miss the frustration and irritation in his voice. But she sat there until she heard Fritz's car backing out of the driveway, then she got up and put the bottle back on the counter, and finished getting ready for work.

* * *

After a brief warmup, Brenda and Andrea began their Zumba workout. It wasn't long before Brenda had worked up a sweat and was panting. When instructed to do so she took her pulse and found that her heart rate was safely within the target range, even though her body told her that she was going to die. But if her heart rate told her that she could continue, she would keep going. And as the workout resumed, she thought, _I'm gonna pay for this tomorrow. _And later, when she still didn't die, _I'll bet if I could do this three times a week like Andrea, my muscles wouldn't scream at me the next day, and I wouldn't wind up feelin' like a crippled 80 year old woman. _Since a spa membership wasn't in her budget, Brenda was grateful to Andrea for the times that she invited her to come along as her guest.

They topped off their workout with a shower and a massage. Then, just as Brenda had predicted, Andrea asked her if she'd like to go get some sushi for dinner.

"Oh, thank you, Andrea, but Fritz is countin' on me to bring dinner. He's had a rough day and I suspect he needs a little TLC," she lied with a smile. "Maybe some other time."

"All right. I don't want to go alone so I think I'll get some takeout for myself, too."

"I hope I'm not spoilin' your dinner plans," Brenda replied, feeling guilty that Andrea had befriended her and had invited her to be her guest at the spa, and now she was repaying her benefactress by forcing her to eat alone.

"No, actually, I didn't have any real dinner plans. It's probably for the best. I have to review some case updates for my staff meeting in the morning."

"All right, then," Brenda smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. And thank you so much for invitin' me and introducin' me to Zumba. Even though I thought I would die, I didn't, and I loved it."

Andrea laughed, "Believe me, I know that feeling well."

Driving home Brenda thought, _I'm so tired I could fall asleep right now. At least I probably won't have any more flashbacks tonight. I need Zumba, not pills._

* * *

That evening, while Brenda was setting the table for dinner, the phone rang. Fritz was bringing the take-out boxes in from the kitchen and heard one half of the conversation.

"Hi, Daddy, how are you? Is anythin' wrong? You want to come here? Yes… Yes, you're welcome to come but I don't ever cook anythin' special for Easter dinner. We can go out for dinner, though… Well certainly, she's welcome to come, but doesn't she want to go on Easter break with her friends? Really? Well, of course, I want to see her again. Since she's in college now, I don't ever get to see her when I come to Atlanta. The last time was Christmas… Sure… No, you get the guest room. Charlie can sleep on the sofa… Daddy, I know that her name is Charlene. But she's old enough to be called Charlie if that's what she wants… All right, let me know your flight arrangements… I love you, too… Bye."

When Brenda turned back to the table, Fritz commented, "I guess that means we're having company for Easter."

"Yes. Daddy says that Charlie wants to come here. Joyce won't give her the money to go with her friends to Acapulco for Easter break and she doesn't have enough money to pay for it herself. I guess our house is her only chance to avoid goin' home."

"Well, one good thing is that she has to get back to school so we won't have another skirmish over her living with us."

"I'm sure we won't. It sounds like she really loves Georgetown." Then Brenda grinned, "Besides, aren't you curious about what color her hair will be this time?"

"I hope it won't be quite the shocker that the red and green hair was at Christmas," Fritz chuckled and took a sip of his water.

"Well, no matter what color her hair is, she'll fit right in here in LA."

* * *

The next morning after breakfast Fritz once again picked up the bottle of antidepressants and put it on the table in front of Brenda. "Don't give me any excuses. Just take it."

Brenda looked up at him with an angry expression and said, "No."

"You know that you need this. So why don't you do the responsible thing and take it?"

Brenda gave him a silent, icy stare so he shook his head, turned, picked up his briefcase and cell phone, and left.

_That's two mornin's in a row that he didn't kiss me goodbye. That man can be so stubborn, _she thought as she sighed and picked up the bottle and put it in the cupboard. _Maybe if he doesn't see it he'll quit buggin' me about it._ Then she took care of the breakfast dishes and got ready for work.

* * *

Brenda was in her office on the phone with one of her investigators. When she hung up the phone her secretary buzzed her almost immediately and told her that DDA Sorenson had arrived for her appointment.

"Thank you, Linda. Please ask her to come in." Her meeting with DDA Sorenson began by listening to her explain the problem with some critical evidence.

"If you knew that your evidence was weak, why did you request a preliminary hearin' instead of convenin' a grand jury?" Brenda asked after DDA Sorenson's explanation.

"I thought it would be the best way to go in this case. Dan Hart's defense counsel was making statements to the press on an almost daily basis and I thought a preliminary hearing would be the best way to shut them down," DDA Sorenson replied.

Brenda recognized the defensiveness in her tone and decided not to let her get away with fogging the facts. "Well, that decision may have just cost you this case. You called for a preliminary hearin' even though your evidence was less than conclusive. And the result is that the defense counsel now knows that your evidence is weak and will use that knowledge to their advantage."

DDA Sorenson squirmed before asking her next question. "Can Investigations help get this case back on track?"

"I attended the preliminary hearin' and examined the evidence, as well as the entire case record, includin' the witness statements. And I honestly don't know what we can do. We're not miracle workers. We can't pluck new evidence out of the air. It's too late to send the case back to the LAPD for further investigation so the best you can probably hope for now is to reach a deal. But don't count on it. Hart's attorneys know that they can probably get an acquittal in court and they also get the benefit of hundreds of additional billable hours, not to mention all the free publicity."

DDA Sorenson's face flushed. She nodded and mumbled a chagrined, "Thank you," as she left Brenda's office.

_Maybe I was a little hard on her, _Brenda thought as she watched her leave. _She's not the first DDA to let grandstanding get in the way of good prosecution and she certainly won't be the last. Hopefully she'll learn from this._

* * *

Four days later, Brenda and Fritz were on the couch watching the local news when a reporter began a story about the cost to taxpayers of the trials of local serial killers and Phillip Stroh's picture suddenly flashed onto the screen. Brenda jumped up and the popcorn bowl she had been holding on her lap fell onto the corner of the coffee table and broke. Shards of pottery and popcorn were scattered on the floor. She froze when she saw it, then ran from the room as a scream strangled in her throat. Fritz followed her into the bedroom where he found her on the bed in the fetal position hyperventilating. He sat down beside her and rubbed her back until she began to regain control.

"W… would you clean up the p… popcorn?" she asked while gulping for the air that her lungs couldn't seem to capture.

"Of course. You stay here and I'll take care of it," Fritz replied softly. He kissed her forehead and left the room. Phillip Stroh's image retreated from her mind when she heard the broken pieces of pottery hitting the wastebasket and she started to calm down. Her heart stopped pounding in her ears and her whole body began to relax. When she heard the vacuum cleaner she got up, checked the bathroom window to make sure it was locked, and washed her face before returning to the living room.

* * *

The next morning, Fritz found the prescription bottle in the cabinet and placed it on the table in front of Brenda. "You haven't been taking these, have you?"

She had expected to hear an angry accusation in his voice but what she heard was disappointment and sadness. That was more devastating to her than his anger would have been. Her heart sank and she softly said, "No."

Fritz just sighed and replied, "I've got to go," and left.

She sat staring at the bottle for a long time before getting up and pouring a glass of water, and finally taking one of the pills.

* * *

The following day they returned to Dr. Leonard's office for their next appointment. The first thing the doctor asked was if either of them had experienced any more nightmares or flashbacks.

Fritz waited for Brenda to speak. When she didn't, he spoke up in order to give her a few more seconds to pull her thoughts together. He told Dr. Leonard that he hadn't had any more nightmares, all the while fervently hoping that she'd admit that she'd had another flashback.

But Dr. Leonard wasn't fooled. "Fritz, do you often cover for your wife?"

He was startled. "Well… I, uh… I wasn't covering for her. It's just that this is very hard for her."

"Your wife is a very strong woman, Fritz. She can handle this." Fritz nodded but Brenda just sat there studying her hands so Dr. Leonard prompted her by asking, "Have you had any nightmares or flashbacks since our last appointment?"

Brenda looked up at Dr. Leonard and admitted, "I had a flashback two days ago."

"Tell me about it."

Brenda described the popcorn incident and concluded by explaining that when she had first investigated Stroh for rape and murder there had been a broken popcorn bowl and popcorn on the victim's floor. "Everythin' just came back to me and I freaked out."

Fritz was proud of her as she described the incident. _She's not trying to minimize it. _

Then Dr. Leonard asked the $64,000 question: "Have you been taking the medicine?"

"I only started takin' it yesterday. At first I didn't think that I needed it, but Fritz says that I do."

"Do _you_ think that you need it?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"I don't know. But if takin' it will keep him from buggin' me about it every mornin' I'll take it."

"Brenda, I think you will see the benefits of the medication. But it will take two or three weeks of you taking your daily dose for the drug to build up in your system so you could have some more flashbacks. But if you're still having them in three weeks we can adjust the dose. And you need to call me immediately if you have any side effects so we can switch you to another medication."

Brenda nodded her head and said, "Ok."

"Fritz, I know you have your wife's best interests at heart. But this has to be Brenda's decision and you need to accept that. Constant reminders are counterproductive."

"All right. I won't say anything more about it," Fritz promised.

"Let's focus on your latest flashback for a minute, Brenda. Just so I'm clear, you said that everything came back to you. Since you've been concerned about Stroh for years I'd like to know exactly what his image on TV brought up in your mind," Dr. Leonard explained.

Brenda cleared her throat, stalling to give herself a few seconds to overcome her emotions and to refocus before beginning. "Well, in my mind I saw the bathroom screen cut and lyin' on the floor. And when I saw the broken bowl and the popcorn all over the floor I was afraid he was back in the house. But, of course, he wasn't. And I knew that, even though it scared me."

"Good, that's an improvement. Now, let's go to his attack on you. Were you alone when Stroh attacked you?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"You mean in real life or in my flashback?"

"In real life. I want you to go back to the beginning, when he broke into your home. Who was there with you when you saw the screen on the bathroom floor?"

"Oh, right. Well, I was in the bathroom talkin' to Rusty. He was in the dinin' room but I couldn't see him from where I was," she replied.

"Did you see anything else?"

"The bathroom window was open and I saw the cut screen on the floor. And I knew that Phillip Stroh had broken in and he was hidin' somewhere in the house."

"Describe exactly what you see on the film playing in your mind," Dr. Leonard probed.

Fritz's heart ached when he saw his traumatized wife begin shaking. He wanted to help her through this lancing of her festering wound so he did the only thing he knew to do. He took her hand again and said, "Take a deep breath."

Brenda nodded, breathed deeply and began again. "Ummm, I'm seein' the cut screen. I know it means that Stroh is in the house. Then I'm checkin' my pockets and my waist band for my gun. I see my purse on the kitchen counter and I know my gun is in it so I grab the curlin' iron. It's the only thing I see that I can use as a weapon." Brenda was still shaking and breathing heavily.

"That's very resourceful of you. Go on," Dr. Leonard encouraged.

"I walk into the kitchen intendin' to get my gun but Stroh is there. He's dressed all in black and he's holdin' Rusty with a huge knife to his throat. I drop the curlin' iron and he orders me to sit on my hands so I do. I give Rusty the signal to flip him and when he does, I run to the counter to get my gun, but then Stroh trips me, tryin' to make me fall. He slashes Rusty in the leg and Rusty kicks the knife away. I'm lookin' for my gun in my purse when Stroh pulls my legs out from underneath me and I fall onto the floor." Brenda was once again hyperventilating.

Dr. Leonard spoke in a low, soothing tone. "Take a deep breath… Another one. Now look around the room. You're in my office and you're safe here. No one is here except your husband and me. No one is going to hurt you." When she saw that Brenda's breathing had steadied she urged her to continue.

"Ummm… I'm on the floor and Stroh is on top of me tryin' to pull my pants down…" Brenda began shaking even more violently. She was overwhelmed and couldn't speak. Fritz, in tears himself, put his arms around her.

Dr. Leonard made note that it was the attempted rape that seemed to cause this crushing emotion that she was experiencing.

When Brenda regained control, she recognized it too, and when she could once again speak, said, "You know, it wasn't that he was tryin' to kill me that bothered me as much as that he was tryin' to rape me, and he wanted to do it in front of someone else before killin' me. I've had murderers try to kill me before, but I've never been raped."

Fritz's arms tightened around her and he moaned, "Oh, God, sweetheart."

She continued, "I guess you must think that's really weird that I would be more frightened of bein' raped than bein' killed."

Dr. Leonard replied, "No, Brenda, I don't think it's weird at all. As a matter of fact it's pretty common."

When Brenda heard that she took a deep breath, left Fritz's arms and sat up in her chair. She then took a tissue from the box that Dr. Leonard had handed to Fritz. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose she said, "I think I've been more afraid after it was all over than while it was goin' on. I wasn't afraid then. Well, I guess I was. But I was more angry than scared. Not just that I was gonna be raped, but that he was gonna rape me in front of someone else. A kid. A teenage boy. That made me furious, and it made me fight harder."

Dr. Leonard nodded and said, "I can understand that. Rape is horrible anytime. But involving a child adds to the horror of it. Continue with what you see on that film playing in your mind."

"I'm fightin' for my life and Stroh is tryin' to choke me. I manage to get my foot up and I kick him in the face and he falls onto his back. He grabs his knife then he comes at me again but I get to my gun and I shoot him four times. I have to shoot him through my purse because I don't even have enough time to take my gun out, so I don't kill him. There's blood all over. Rusty begs me to shoot him again and Stroh begs me not to kill him. I'm pretty sure I can get away with killin' him and I tell him that. He promises to confess everythin' if I won't shoot him again. But I decide that I really don't want to hear anythin' he has to say so I refuse to listen to it. And then I call 911. I give Rusty a towel to wrap around his leg to stop the bleedin' and I keep my gun trained on Stroh until the police and paramedics arrive.

"Then it's all over and all I want to do is collapse, but I can't. There's all this after-action cleanup with FID and SID everywhere in my home. And since my home is a crime scene, I know I have to move out for several days. I couldn't even pack a suitcase without them watchin' me, checkin' even my bras and panties, and needin' to approve everythin' I packed. That was horrible. It felt like I was bein' exposed and treated like I was the criminal," she said bitterly.

"Brenda, it's completely natural that you've had nightmares and flashbacks. I'd be more worried about you if you weren't reliving that harrowing experience," Dr. Leonard reassured her before continuing, "After describing it frame by frame, tell me how you feel now."

"I just feel empty."

"Are you still afraid?"

"No, just empty. And exhausted," Brenda replied.

Dr. Leonard observed that Fritz had turned white so she turned to him and asked, "How did hearing Brenda's description of what happened make you feel?"

"Sick at my stomach, Doctor. This is the first time I've ever heard it in such detail. I want to throw up."

"Did you ever ask Brenda to tell you what happened?"

"Yes. She gave me the broad strokes and she said she would give me more details if I wanted to hear them. But, at the time, she was in such an emotional state that I was afraid I would be asking her for more than she was ready to give. And later on she said she didn't want to talk about it, she just wanted to forget about it. She closed up. And, believe me, no one can get Brenda to talk when she doesn't want to."

Dr. Leonard followed up by asking, "Brenda, can you now see that talking the experience through helps you gain control over it?"

She nodded in relief, "I do feel better. Does this mean that I won't have any more flashbacks about it?"

"No, not yet. But if you do, it's important to talk it through just as we did today. You can talk to Fritz about it. And, of course, we'll talk about it in our sessions. And keep taking the medication. Between therapy and the medication, I think we can eliminate the flashbacks."

"All right, Doctor," Brenda nodded.

Dr. Leonard turned her attention to Fritz. "How do you feel now about what you've been hearing?"

"Rage. Rage and hatred of Stroh. For the first time in my life I really, _really_ want to kill someone."

"What else are you feeling?"

"I feel sick. I want to throw up."

"Fritz, look at your wife and tell me what you see."

"She seems perfectly calm now. As a matter of fact, I can't believe how she could describe something so horrific and be so calm," he replied.

"Discussing it helped her gain perspective on it. And I think you can achieve the same benefit by discussing your nightmares both with Brenda and with me."

"After hearing what actually happened in such detail I'm sure I'll have a lot more nightmares," Fritz replied.

"You might. So I want to give you an assignment. Write the details down and bring them with you to our next session. And discuss them with Brenda, too." When she saw Fritz's look of surprise, she smiled and said, "Don't worry about Brenda. Look at how calm she is now. She's a very strong woman. And she'll listen to you. I think it will be good for both of you."

Brenda turned to Fritz, took his hand and said, "You know I will."

Dr. Leonard saw that the color had returned to his face. "How are you feeling now, Fritz?"

"I feel calmer just looking at Brenda."

"Do you still feel like you want to murder Phillip Stroh?"

"Yes, but I won't."

"Do you still feel sick?"

"No. Not anymore."

* * *

As they walked back to the car, Brenda suggested, "Let's get somethin' to eat. That session has left me starvin'."

Fritz, still marveling at his wife's resilience, smiled and said, "You pick the place."

_To be continued…_

**A/N: PLEASE review. Your comments, whether long or brief, are very much wanted. Thank you.**

15


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

As Brenda pulled into her driveway she saw her upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Nagel, loaded down with shopping bags.

"Here, Mrs. Nagel, let me help you with those," she said as she relieved the elderly woman from most of her burden.

"Thank you, Mrs. Howard," she replied gratefully. "I was hoping to avoid making more than one trip up those stairs. I'm afraid that my arthritic knees don't like stairs anymore. I bought a lot of Easter candy on sale," she explained as she stiffly climbed up the steps. "My grandchildren are all teenagers now but I still make up Easter baskets for them every year. My daughter tells me I'm just being silly, but I think the children still appreciate them."

Brenda had long ago given up on correcting her neighbor when she'd called her by the wrong name, and she didn't correct her this time, either. She smiled as she carried the bags up the last few steps and into Mrs. Nagel's kitchen. As she was setting them on the counter, she replied, "I'm sure they still appreciate them, Mrs. Nagel. You never get too old to be given candy. And please, call me Brenda."

But her neighbor had already abandoned the subject of Easter baskets and asked, "May I offer you a cup of tea? We see each other so seldom. It seems that we never have the chance to chat. And I have some fresh chocolate chip cookies."

Since Mrs. Nagel apparently had few visitors and since she had said the magic words, Brenda replied, "Thank you. My husband won't be home from work for a little while so I'd love some cookies and a cup of tea. That's very kind of you."

When they were both seated at the tiny dinette table with the tea pot, delicate china cups and a plate of cookies, the older woman asked, "Do you and Mr. Howard know what you're going to do yet?"

"Do about what, Mrs. Nagel?"

"Please. You must call me Bernice. Why, your apartment, of course," the older woman explained. "Haven't you received your letter yet? I got mine yesterday."

"What letter?"

"Oh, my dear, why the one from CoastProp Management, of course. They bought our whole complex last year."

"Yes, we've been payin' our rent to them since last July, but I don't know anythin' about a letter. Are they raisin' our rent again?"

"No. I'm afraid that it's much worse than that. They're changing our whole complex into condominiums so our leases aren't going to be renewed. We either have to buy our units or move when the leases are up."

"This is the first I'm hearin' about this. Does the letter say when we have to let them know our decision?"

"We have to either sign a commitment agreement or notify them that we're moving sixty days before our leases expire."

"And, let me guess… They're askin' a lot more money for our units than they're worth."

"Perhaps. It does seem that they're asking a lot for this apartment but I don't know anything about the real estate market these days. Besides, I'm at the age where I really need something on the first floor. That's why I'm wondering what you're going to do."

The puzzle pieces fell into place. "Are you hopin' we'll move so you can buy our unit?"

"Well… frankly, yes, my dear. The thought had occurred to me. I called the manager and he said that he isn't sure that he'll have a first floor unit for me. Apparently other tenants have asked him about them and he doesn't know yet how many first floor units he'll have available. Oh, I know it sounds terrible. You and Mr. Howard have been good neighbors. You're quiet, polite, and Mr. Howard was so kind when I needed help with my new TV. And your cooking doesn't even set off the smoke alarm nearly as often as Mrs. Butler's did. But considering…"

"Considerin' what, Mrs. Na… Bernice?"

"Well, there was that dreadful shooting in your apartment just a few months ago. Why, I had to take extra heart pills for days."

"I'm so sorry about that, but it wasn't my fault. A man broke in and tried to kill me."

"Yes, but he was someone you knew, was he not?"

"Well, yes. But he certainly wasn't a friend of mine. And he's in jail now so you don't have to worry about him. He's not comin' back."

Brenda's words sounded foreign to her. She couldn't believe they were coming from her mouth. But now was not the time to think about Phillip Stroh so she pushed past that thought and continued. "We haven't talked about what we're gonna do, so I guess the first thing is to read the letter." When she saw the rising tide of hope begin to ebb from Bernice's face, she quickly added, "But if we do decide to buy, I'm sure there will be another first floor unit available. And my husband and I will be happy to help you move. Mmm… These cookies are delicious."

* * *

As soon as Brenda unlocked her door she headed straight for the mail and saw the letter from the management company unfolded on the dining room table. _Fritz has already seen it. I wonder why he didn't say anythin' about it. _She quickly read it. It confirmed everything that Mrs. Nagel had said: they must either commit to buying their condo by April 1st, or vacate the premises by the time their present lease expires on May 31st.

Brenda set the letter back down on the dining room table and busied herself dragging out ingredients to make dinner. She smiled as she thought, _I'll bet this is the night my cookin' sets off the smoke alarm. _That thought caused her to put the ingredients back and pull out the spaghetti pot instead. _I have never burned spaghetti, _she reasoned. She had the meat balls cooking and the water in the spaghetti pot boiling when Fritz came through the door so she stopped what she was doing and greeted him with a kiss.

"I see you found the letter," Fritz observed as he set the table.

"Yes. Actually, Bernice Nagel told me all about it first. She's askin' what we're gonna do. I think she's hopin' to buy this place. But why didn't you say anythin' to me about it?"

"You had already left for work when I saw it. What do you want to do?"

"I'm not ready to move yet, but you already know that. Why don't we buy this place? We can always sell it later on if we want to move."

"Because the asking price for it is inflated, especially since the letter says we'd have to pay association fees, too. We could buy a house for what we'd need to continue living here. And if we were to buy this place we probably wouldn't be able to get all of our money back."

"Well, we don't have to make a decision tonight. Let's eat." And with that pronouncement, Brenda exercised her long-standing habit of stuffing a looming, unpleasant decision back into the furthest cubby hole of her mind.

* * *

That night, Brenda once again awoke with a start. Her heart was racing. Fritz was asleep beside her but, despite his peaceful slumber, she knew the truth: _he_ was back. She quietly got out of bed, pausing when her movement caused Fritz to stir in his sleep. She moved to the dresser in order to retrieve her gun, but it was missing. Then she remembered that it was in her purse in the kitchen.

The whole scene started to play out in her mind again. But there was something different this time. She wasn't the victim. Stroh had attacked Bernice Nagel instead. As she moved quietly from the bedroom to the kitchen, Brenda realized that she was not in the throes of another flashback. She had had a nightmare. But she still had to check to make sure the bathroom window and screen were secure before climbing back into bed. And still Fritz slept. _Maybe this means I'm doin' better,_ she thought. _At least Fritzi is gettin' more sleep._

* * *

The following morning, while Fritz was getting dressed for work, Brenda went to the computer and pulled up her word processing program. She entered the narrative of her dream in the journal of sorts that she had started in order to preserve the details, just as Dr. Leonard had suggested. When she had finished, she noted with great satisfaction that this was her only entry so far. _Maybe those pills are startin' to work. _

Then, while they ate, she told Fritz about her nightmare. "But the most important thing to me is that I recognized that it wasn't real and I was able to go back to sleep. And I never disturbed you. So I think I'm doin' better." The warm glow of pride colored her words.

Fritz leaned over and kissed her forehead, "I'm proud of you."

* * *

Late that morning, Brenda was deep in the weeds of a case file when she heard a knock on her door. "Got a minute?" Andrea Hobbs asked.

"Sure, come on in," Brenda smiled at her.

When Andrea was seated in front of her desk, she said, "I didn't know DDA Sorenson was coming to you. I want to thank you for taking her to task."

"I was afraid that I was too hard on her," Brenda replied.

"No, not at all. Actually, you told her exactly what I would have said. But she should have come to me first and I've taken that up with her."

"She wasn't very happy after our meetin' so I rather doubt she'll come to me again anytime soon."

"I'm having a hard time with her. She has excellent courtroom skills but she's headstrong and very difficult to supervise. So I was actually happy to hear that you had reinforced what I've been telling her all along about dealing with Dan Hart and his lawyers."

"You know, I never asked her if she'd spoken to you about that case first. I should have and I'm sorry about that. I'm glad you're not upset."

No, quite the contrary. I think it might have done some good to hear it coming from you. I'm afraid I'm starting to sound like a broken record to her."

"Andrea, I'm perfectly willin' to help her if I can. But I honestly don't think anythin' can be done at this point. It looks to me like she's gonna crash and burn with this one."

"I think she probably will too. And that's not something I want on either one of our records. But you're right. There really isn't anything that we can do about it at this stage of the game."

Brenda nodded in agreement. She felt bad for Andrea because she knew that this colossal failure would be a black mark on Andrea's record as well as DDA Sorenson's. And her guilt feelings from the other night's rejected dinner invitation revisited her. "Well, it's water under the bridge now, I'm afraid. Listen, it's almost noon and I'm starvin'. Would you like to get lunch with me? My treat."

Andrea smiled. "I'd love to, but you don't have to treat."

"I want to. It's my way of sayin' thanks for invitin' me to try Zumba the other night."

"All right, I accept. Where do you want to go?"

"Your choice," Brenda replied as she grabbed her purse.

* * *

Fritz was coming home from a late night in the field when his cell phone rang. It was Brenda telling him that she needed his help and demanding that he hurry home. She told him that Agent Myers had gone after Marisol again and they were all in the kitchen. Fritz sped up and saw Agent Myers' van parked in front of the duplex as he pulled into the driveway. He grabbed his automatic rifle and opened his own back door just as Agent Myers and Marisol became Stroh and Brenda. Once more, it felt like he was swimming through glue, unable to fire his weapon. And Stroh was killing Brenda.

Fritz woke up suddenly and sat upright. He knew he had had his old nightmare again. His skin was sweaty and clammy and he was breathing heavily. After his breathing returned to normal he looked over at Brenda and was relieved to see that she was sleeping peacefully beside him. He watched her for a minute thinking that, as familiar as his dream was, there was something different about it. He used his pajama top to rub the perspiration from his face, then realized that the difference was that his inability to protect Brenda by shooting Stroh took place in the kitchen of his own duplex. He remembered that Dr. Leonard had instructed him to write down all the details of his dreams so he quietly got up, washed, and changed his perspiration-soaked pajamas before going into the living room in order to record the details on his computer. When he finished he went back to bed, smiling when he saw that Brenda was still sleeping peacefully.

* * *

After they were once again seated on the office couch, Dr. Leonard asked if they had experienced any more flashbacks or nightmares since their last appointment.

"I had my old dream the other night," Fritz responded, "And I wrote it down but I forgot to bring the printout with me."

"As long as you remember the details you don't need to bring a copy with you. Tell me about it."

"It was pretty much the same thing," he began, "The only difference was that it took place in our kitchen, not at the actual site where I had to shoot Agent Myers."

"Why do you think it took place in your house?"

"I'm sure I was thinking about Brenda's account of her attack."

"I didn't know you'd had another nightmare. Why didn't you tell me about it?" Brenda asked.

"You were gone by the time I got up the next morning. And later I just didn't think about it. I wasn't deliberately hiding it from you," he replied defensively.

"You still should have told me about it. I want to know when somethin' like that happens to you."

"I know you do, and you're right. I should have told you. But, like I said, I honestly didn't think about it again. If I hadn't remembered to write down the details, I still probably wouldn't have thought about it."

"Fritz, were you afraid that if you described your nightmare to Brenda that it would trigger more of her flashbacks?"

"No, not really. Well, maybe. She's doing so much better and I don't want to be the cause of her slipping back into them."

"The aftermath of Stroh's attack is a problem for both of you and you need to discuss every aspect of it with each other."

"I understand. I'm not trying to keep things from her. But, well… I'm just not sure how much she can take," he admitted

"I can certainly take listenin' to your dreams. Don't shut me out. That's what you always accuse me of doin'."

"Is that what happened, Fritz? Did you shut Brenda out?"

"No. At least I didn't think I was doing that."

"Well, it sure feels like that's what you were doin'," Brenda retorted.

"Not only is it important to you to discuss your nightmares with your wife, it's important to her, as well. She's no wilting flower. She can take it. And sharing your experiences, _all_ your experiences will strengthen you both. So, if it's not convenient to discuss your nightmares with Brenda the next morning, you need to come up with a reminder to discuss them at the first opportunity."

He saw the truth in what Dr. Leonard was saying, as well as the strength and determination on Brenda's face, and replied, "I will. I can print them off and put them on the dining room table where we'll both see them."

"That would be a good reminder. But make sure that you follow up with a discussion."

Fritz nodded, "I will."

"Good. What about you, Brenda? Have you had any more flashbacks or nightmares?"

"No more flashbacks. But I had a nightmare last week."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, I dreamed that Stroh was back in my house strugglin' with me. Only this time I realized that I was watchin' it from a distance instead of bein' down on the floor fightin'. And then I realized that the woman he was tryin' to kill wasn't me. It was the woman who lives upstairs."

"Why do you think you dreamed that she was the one being attacked?"

"That afternoon she had told me that our complex is bein' turned into condos and we have to either buy our unit or move. And she said that she might be interested in buyin' our apartment."

"Did you discuss your nightmare with Fritz?"

"Yes, I told him about it, and I wrote the details down so I'd remember them. But we've been talkin' mainly about whether we want to buy our duplex or move."

"Is that creating a conflict for the two of you?"

"No. At least not anythin' new. I don't want to move until I conquer my flashbacks," Brenda explained.

"So the two of you are still living in the same apartment where you were attacked?"

"Fritz has been wantin' us to move ever since Stroh broke in," Brenda admitted, "But I feel like I need to lick these flashbacks first."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"Well, Doctor, I guess I don't want to feel like they drove me away. That would feel like he won. And I'm not gonna give him any kind of a victory," she said emphatically.

"I see. How do you feel about that, Fritz?"

"I don't think it's good for us to stay there. I think Brenda's flashbacks might ease up if she didn't see Phillip Stroh every time she walks into our kitchen. I think I'd spend less time thinking about the attack, too. And I'm afraid that the closer we get to the trial, the worse it's going to be for both of us."

"Brenda, is it possible that continuing to live in the same place where the attack took place is actually fueling your flashbacks?"

Brenda shrugged. "All I know is that I am in that kitchen several times every day but I don't have a flashback every day. So I feel like I'm winnin'."

Fritz shook his head, "Forcing yourself to stay in that environment is probably making the flashbacks that you do have worse, though." When he saw Brenda's annoyed expression he turned elsewhere looking for an ally. "What do you think, Doctor?"

"Brenda, I want you to think about this: it's not a sign of weakness to remove yourself from the scene of the crime. You wouldn't be waving the white flag. In fact, it would be a sign that you can make good decisions to take care of yourself."

"Wavin' the white flag… That's exactly how I think about it."

"During the next few days, I'd like you to consider that moving might be a very healthy thing that you could do for yourself."

Fritz turned to Brenda, "And for me, too. Ever since you described your attack in detail, I think about it every time I walk into the kitchen and I get sick all over again. It would be nice to be able to walk around our home without dragging the baggage of Phillip Stroh along."

Brenda acknowledged his statement with a nod but said nothing.

"How does what Fritz just said sound to you?"

"I understand his feelin's. I do. And I have to consider movin' anyway since we got that letter."

"You wanted to move when your mother died, remember?" Fritz reminded her.

"But when we got home and I made myself sit in the guest room, everythin' changed. It was painful, but I wasn't afraid to face it anymore."

Fritz reassured her, "You can handle this too."

"Brenda, do you feel you can handle moving?"

"Yes, of course. I've had to handle movin' several times before. And I hated it then, too. I just don't like change."

"Why don't you and Fritz sit down and list all the pros and cons of staying where you are and the same thing for moving? That might help you to decide," Dr. Leonard suggested. "And pay special attention to any feelings that arise about Stroh and his attack."

* * *

That night while Brenda watched TV, Fritz was hunched over his laptop. Finally he looked over the screen at her. "Honey, can you come here for a minute? I'd like you to see this."

"What is it?" she asked as she moved around behind him so she could see the screen, too.

"These are just some of the houses for sale in our price range."

"You're absolutely determined, aren't you?"

"It's the right thing for us, honey."

She looked at his calm, reassuring face then sighed, "Wait a minute, I don't have my glasses," and she retrieved them from her purse. Walking back into the room she leaned over him and asked, "All those? Are you sure they're in our price range?"

"Yes, they are."

"Where are they? Oregon?"

"Pasadena, Glendale… even Monrovia. Most are right around here."

"Really?" she leaned in to look at the pictures and read the descriptions. "Fritzi, these are all four bedroom homes."

"I think that's the way to go because…"

"Why on earth do we need so many bedrooms? Are you plannin' to rent two of them out?"

"We need at least two bedrooms. But I thought it would be nice to have a real office, and a spare room for storage."

"Uh huh," she replied in a tone which conveyed her suspicion that he was no longer tethered to reality.

"We won't have the additional storage unit that we have here so we have to have someplace to store things. Besides, if we had a separate room for an office now, Charlie wouldn't have to sleep on the couch. We could put a day bed, or even an air mattress, in there."

She ignored him and turned her attention back to the computer, studying the houses on the screen. "Oh, I like the looks of that one. Does it have four bedrooms, too?"

"No, that one has five."

"Well, that's just ridiculous. We're not cleanin' all those bedrooms, or payin' taxes on that much house," she pronounced. "What about this one?"

"That one has four bedrooms, but the yard is entirely concrete. No grass. It would get mighty hot in the summer. Besides, I want a lawn, with real grass and trees. I want to be able to plant things. But, on the plus side, it has a pool. See?" Fritz clicked the mouse and advanced to a photograph of the yard showing a small pool.

"That's not even as big as a mud puddle," Brenda sneered.

"Here, why don't you sit down and go through the rest of them and see if there's any you would like to see," he suggested, getting up so she could have his seat.

"If we have to do this, can we at least find another realtor? Surely 'Gary-Doesn't-Lie' Evans isn't the only realtor in LA."

"Actually, Gary Evans has a very high success rate. That's why I chose him."

"Humph. Probably because he's so annoyin'. People will buy anythin' to get rid of him."

"We can find another realtor if you're really willing to consider moving. But I don't want to waste someone's time if you're not."

"Let me look at these listin's first, ok?" and she turned away from him and clicked the mouse.

"Ok," he said as he pulled a chair up beside her so they could look together.

By bedtime Brenda had reluctantly agreed that she would look at three properties on the weekend.

* * *

Even though she disliked having to spend her free time this way, Brenda found herself sitting in Carol Franklin's office Saturday morning while the realtor gathered information on the type of house they were searching for.

"Ideally, we'd like a four bedroom ranch home in excellent condition, with a large lot, and within a fifteen or twenty minute drive of downtown Los Angeles," Fritz was explaining.

"And it has to be in a safe neighborhood," Brenda added.

"Of course," Mrs. Franklin smiled, "I can see that from the printouts you brought with you. Although, I happen to know that one of those houses has some serious structural problems which would probably place the total cost outside your price range. And one has a kitchen which badly needs updating."

"We don't want anything requiring extensive repairs, Mrs. Franklin," Fritz explained. "But I don't mind working on smaller issues later."

"Please. Call me Carol." Her smile was warm, and aimed at Fritz. So warm that Brenda was amused.

"Because of our workin' hours we don't do a lot of cookin'," Brenda broke in to break Carol's tractor beam on her husband. "But we still need a functional kitchen."

"I think I can arrange to show you these two remaining properties and I can find others for you, as well. When would be a good time to show them to you?"

"Would it be possible to see at least these two properties today?" Fritz asked.

"Let me call and see. Also, there is another property not too far from one of them that we might also be able to see."

"Wonderful," Brenda replied without smiling.

* * *

The following week, while driving back from seeing more houses, Fritz asked, "Well, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinkin' that 'great room' is just a snobby way of sayin' 'livin' room'."

"I mean what did you think of the houses?"

"None of them are perfect, but I liked the second one the best. What did you think?"

"I think I liked the third one the best."

"But the guest bedroom in that one is a loft. Daddy can't climb those stairs."

"Why not? He climbs stairs every day now."

"But he won't be able to for much longer."

"We could use the loft for an office, or for storage."

"No. The loft is open so our stuff would be in constant view. And I want everythin' on one floor."

"Ok, Carol said she'd do some more checking for us and we can continue to check at home, too."

Brenda leaned back. _Fritz has his heart set on buyin' a house so I'm really gonna be movin'._ She realized that, as much as she dreaded it, she had to get ready.

_To be continued…_

**Once again, your review is important. Please…**

16


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter references my story "The Visitor".**

**Chapter 4:**

Throughout dinner they talked about the pros and cons of each of the houses they had seen. And, while all of them had been pretty much in line with what they had wanted, none felt quite right.

"Let's look on the computer again after dinner," Brenda suggested causing Fritz to chuckle, even though his mouth was full.

"What's so funny?"

He swallowed, then grinned, "Do you remember how you dug in your heels about buying a house until after we'd sold the bungalow, and then you went into overdrive?"

"I did not go into overdrive." Testiness began pouring into her words.

"You most certainly did. You were absolutely frantic."

"Fritz, now you're tellin' stories. We just couldn't afford anythin' then but we found this place and I was fine with movin' here."

Fritz laughed out loud at her selective memory. "You were fine with it? Then why did it take over six weeks for you to unpack?"

"It did not take me six weeks to unpack." Brenda's face was turning red signaling that she was now approaching a full-blown snit.

"No, you're right. It didn't. Because _I _finally unpacked your things for you."

When Brenda heard that, she left the table in a huff. Fritz, on the other hand, sat there chuckling, remembering Brenda's reaction when it finally sank in that selling the bungalow meant that they had to move.

* * *

_**December 26, 2007:**_

"_Fritz, Fritz! Wake up!" Brenda shook a still deeply sleeping Fritz. He lurched to full consciousness._

"_Wh… What? Brenda, what's wrong?" he asked as he looked around the still darkened bedroom._

"_We have to be out of this house in a week and we have no place to live. We've got to find somethin' right away!" she cried as she turned on the lamp by her bed._

_Fritz blinked against the light. "What time is it?"_

"_It's quarter to six. Get up and go get the paper while I shower. We've got to look at houses TODAY!" she exclaimed as she launched herself from the bed and hurtled toward the bathroom._

"_Honey! Honey! Calm down. We don't have to move this minute. Gary-Doesn't-Lie Evans hasn't even called us to set up a closing date yet. Nothing is going to happen right away."_

"_But it COULD happen," Brenda said as she spun around in the doorway._

"_Collin and Troy have got to give notice where they're renting and inspections have to be done. We've got a little more time. Besides…"_

"_Fritz, don't argue with me! When I bought this house all the inspections were done and I closed in less than a week. Get up! We've got a lot to do today." Her voice trailed off as she disappeared into the bathroom._

_For his part, Fritz was still grappling with her minor explosion as he watched her go. When he heard the water running he rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes, slid into his slippers, grabbed his robe, and trudged obediently to the front porch to retrieve the paper. _

_A blast of December air hit him and he remembered that he had stopped the paper when they had left for Atlanta and delivery hadn't resumed yet. So he also headed for the bathroom and began shaving while waiting for his turn in the shower. _

_As he was attempting to get the elusive hairs on his Adam's apple he saw his naked fiancée grab a towel and streak out of the bathroom. If he hadn't had a razor blade pressed to his neck he would have shaken his head in amazement. _I couldn't get her interested in looking at houses for six months. And now we've got to find one today? Some days, I swear, living with that woman is like living in a blender.

_When Brenda had dressed, she immediately headed to the kitchen to look for the paper, but it wasn't on the table or on the coffee table, either. So she headed back into the bathroom. "Fritz, where's the paper?" she asked as she opened the shower door._

"_We don't have one. I have to call and have them start delivery again."_

"_What are we gonna do?"_

_Fritz turned off the water and, wrapping himself in a towel, stepped out of the shower. "I have an idea. Why don't we go to The Perk for breakfast? You can have one of those chocolate-filled croissants you love. They have papers and those real estate books and we can check them all out while we eat."_

_Brenda nodded, "Ok. Those books are a good idea," and she turned toward her makeup table._

She didn't even catch the part about her favorite pastry,_ Fritz marveled._

_When they got to The Perk, Fritz bought the papers and collected all the residential real estate books. They scoured the papers' want ads for houses listed for sale first and then turned to the books._

"_I think what we should do first is look in the zip codes we know we can afford," Brenda advised._

_Fritz agreed, but after an hour of searching, they had identified only two houses that seemed even marginally worth pursuing. Everything else was either beyond their price range, was located in gang territory, was too dilapidated, or was located too far away from where they worked to be practical._

_Brenda sank back into her seat, "I can't believe how housin' prices have jumped. What are we gonna do?"_

"_Maybe we should look at these rental books."_

"_Do you really want to rent an apartment?"_

"_It would only be temporary. We've only found two houses to look at and we don't even know if either of them would be ok."_

* * *

"Earth to Fritz. Earth to Fritz!" Brenda was sitting at the computer. "Are you gonna come look at these listin's of houses with me, or are you gonna stay there in outer space?"

He looked up at her, smiled, and moved to the computer beside her.

As he pulled up his chair Brenda asked, "What are the numbers we need to write down for Carol?"

"These," Fritz pointed at the screen. "The MLS numbers. Every property listed has one. You can just copy them and paste them into an email for her."

"Speakin' of Carol, how do you like her?"

"Fine. At least she didn't say 'Carol doesn't lie' a single time."

"Yeah," Brenda chuckled, "That was definitely a plus. And she certainly liked you."

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous."

"Nah. She's not your type. I'm just hopin' she's infatuated enough that, if you're determined to do this, she'll find us a great house."

"So you're sure you know my type?" Fritz teased.

"Yes, and it's me."

Fritz tossed his head dramatically, and quipped, "You don't know me."

"I don't? Well, maybe I'd better get to know you then," Brenda took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

* * *

While driving home after a weekend marathon of house hunting, Brenda sighed and suggested, "Maybe we should check out one of those bridges. We're probably gonna be sleepin' under one before long."

"That might work," Fritz joked. "But first, I need to know. Have you ever had sex underneath a bridge?"

"No. I make it a policy to only sleep with men who can offer me a bed. In a house."

Fritz laughed and took her hand. "We'll find a house."

"I sure hope we find one soon. Because Daddy and Charlie are comin' and we need to have it all settled before they get here. Are you sure we shouldn't just buy our apartment?"

"Brennnddaaa."

* * *

Brenda was at her desk going through her mail when her phone rang. "DA Corning for you on four," Linda said.

"Thank you, Linda," and Brenda punched line four. "Good morning, Steve. What can I do for you?"

"Chief Johnson, could you please come to my office?" His tone was abrupt.

On her way up in the elevator, Brenda thought, _Steve didn't sound like he's in a very good mood. I wonder what's goin' on. _She was waved into his office as soon as his secretary, Miriam, saw her.

"What's wrong, Steve?"

"Have a seat, please," he replied. As soon as she was seated he asked, "Is Investigations looking into the Dan Hart bribery case?"

"Well, I reviewed the case file and the evidence and I don't think Investigations can help. It's a public relations nightmare for the DA's office, I know. But the evidence is much too weak to win a conviction."

"So, there's nothing that can be done?"

"I don't think so. At least, not with the evidence the LAPD gathered. And I can't see that anythin' was overlooked."

Steve rubbed his chin and stared out his window for a minute before explaining. "Hart's lead attorney, an asshole named Garrett Molina, was shooting off his mouth at the club Friday night. He started out bragging about his brand new Bentley, and continued on to how he had already won the Hart case because the DA's office is so incompetent. I don't like being blindsided. What the hell is this about?"

Brenda had never heard him use crude language. "I'm sorry, Steve. I forgot you were on vacation durin' the PR ruckus. I guess I should have come to you after reviewin' the file. Dan Hart is facin' trial on three counts of bribery. Accordin' to the LAPD, he bribed bank officials for a line of credit to finance a new line of designer clothin' and a designer to develop it. But there's no solid evidence to back up the charges."

"We got an indictment without evidence?"

"The DDA asked for a preliminary hearin' instead so Molina was able to see that our evidence is weak."

"And who is the DDA on the case?"

"Kristin Sorenson. She's new. Her supervisor told me that she told her not to ask for a preliminary hearin' but DDA Sorenson did it anyway."

"And who is the supervising DDA?"

"Andrea Hobbs."

"Well, I guess I need to have a talk with both of them."

"DDA Hobbs is upset because she told her not to go the hearin' route and she disobeyed her. I should have told you about all this last week. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Chief Johnson. I'll take care of it. I don't want you to feel that the role of snitch is part of your job description."

When she got back to her desk, Brenda tried calling Andrea to give her a heads up but there was no answer. She sat back in her chair thinking about Steve's account of his Friday night encounter with Molina, and then she picked up her phone again, dialed David Gabriel, and asked him to come to her office.

"David, I need you to trace registration and sales information on a Bentley currently in the possession of Garrett Molina, Esquire."

"Sure, chief. But can I ask what specifically you're looking for?"

Brenda briefly explained the situation before concluding, "I don't know if there's anythin' there or not, but there definitely seems to be a connection in Mr. Molina's mind. Check it out, would you please? And make it a high priority."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"How have things been going?" Dr. Leonard asked.

"Fine," Brenda said proudly, "No flashbacks or nightmares."

"I haven't had any either," Fritz said.

"Have you been taking the medicine?"

"Every morning, and I haven't had any side effects."

"Good. And did you do the assignment I gave you?"

"We both worked on it. I think we're about 90% committed to moving," Fritz answered.

"And, Brenda, are you committed to moving?"

"Fritz is 110% committed to movin'. I'm maybe 80% resigned. I really hate change, and that's worth at least 20%."

"If we were to find the right house, I think she'd be all right with it."

"Are you in agreement on what you want in a house?"

"Well, I want to buy our apartment. But Fritz wants a four bedroom house with a nice yard and I want a ranch style. So that's what we're lookin' at."

"So, you've already started looking at houses?"

"We've looked at several so far," Brenda replied. "As a matter of fact, we're gonna look at some more later on today."

"Then tell me what you think about when you enter the houses and walk around."

"I look at the size of the rooms, the kitchen, the bathrooms, the closet space, that kind of thing," Brenda replied.

"Do you think about Phillip Stroh?"

"No, not at all. But I do have to admit that I notice if the windows have locks on them."

"Good. Being mindful of your physical safety is important. What about you, Fritz?"

"I look at the house and the lawn. I ask about the roof, plumbing, insulation, and the heating and air conditioning equipment. But I don't think about Stroh, either."

"Brenda, I want us to take a look at your feelings about change. Disliking change is normal, but from what you've said, it sounds like your feelings are more intense than most people's. Yet you said that you've handled lots of change in your life."

"I have. I was a military brat so we were always movin' from base to base. We finally settled in Atlanta because my brother was enterin' high school and my parents wanted all us kids to go through high school in one place. But I've moved several times since growin' up."

"Constant moving is certainly difficult for a child, but as an adult, moving was your choice, wasn't it?"

"Yes. My career demanded it so I just did it. But the worst changes have happened since I moved to LA, and lately they've just piled one on top of the other."

"What changes were those?"

"The worst were all in the past year. I found out that Daddy had cancer in December. Then Mama died in July. I had those two lawsuits this past year. And I lost a career that I loved and had taken me years to build, and now I'm havin' to learn an entirely new one. Phillip Stroh tried to rape and murder me, and now we're gonna be movin'." Brenda started to cry.

Fritz took her in his arms and spoke softly to her. "You've had more than your share of horrible things, I know. But you've handled each one like the champion you are. And you haven't had to handle them alone. I've been with you every step of the way. And I'm not going to change."

Brenda nodded, "I know. And if it weren't for you, I swear I would have lost my mind."

"Brenda, you are much stronger than you realize. All of those changes in a brief period of time would be a lot for anyone to handle. But you are handling them. You have a tremendous reserve of strength. And, as Fritz said, you haven't had to deal with them alone. He's been right there with you, helping you and supporting you through it all."

"But sometimes my flashbacks make me think I'm losin' it."

"You're human, and flashbacks are a normal response to the trauma you've experienced."

Brenda nodded and sniffed, "The flashbacks are getting' better. But the timin' of this move is just awful."

"It may not be," Dr. Leonard said. "As hard as it may seem now, this move may go a long way to helping you finally put Phillip Stroh behind you. And wouldn't that be a good thing?"

"That would be wonderful," Brenda nodded.

"I'd like you to keep that in mind, and talk to Fritz about it too. Fritz, this is just as important for you. You've both been affected by Stroh's attack."

"I will," they both answered simultaneously.

* * *

They met Carol at the first address she'd given them. After greeting them, she said, "All of these houses that we're going to see this afternoon have pools. I know you're somewhat undecided about a pool."

"I'm more interested in the house. But, as long as Fritz promises to take charge of maintainin' it, I don't mind. But when we first looked online we saw a house with a very small pool and it looked ridiculous. If we're gonna have one, it should be a nice one."

"I admit to wanting a pool, but not if it means we have to sacrifice other things."

"Well, let's check it out, shall we?" And Carol led the way up to the house.

After looking at three houses that didn't appeal to Brenda, she was becoming discouraged and grumpy. As Fritz parked their car behind Carol's she said, "I'm beginnin' to get the feelin that the right house for us just doesn't exist in LA. Or maybe we're tryin' to break some cosmic law by buyin' a house. Besides, these shoes are beginnin' to hurt my feet and I'm hungry."

"We've got two more today and then we won't look at any more until next weekend," Fritz said soothingly. "Just please don't shut down until we've seen both of them."

Indignant, Brenda replied, "I am not shuttin' down," as she opened the car door. "Onward and upward," she muttered.

When they joined Carol on the sidewalk she handed them brochures as she said, "This house is slightly over your price range but the owners are being transferred, so they're eager to sell. I'm sure they'll be willing to deal. As you can see, it's a four bedroom ranch, an average size lot, nicely landscaped, and it has a pool."

The doorbell was answered by Sherrie and Bill Hanson. After introductions, they invited them to look around and volunteered to answer any questions which might arise.

"I'd like to start with the master bedroom," Brenda said. Sherrie nodded and pointed the way.

Brenda was impressed with the size of the room. But she fell in love with one feature of the walk-in closet. "Wow. I love this shoe rack," she said to Fritz. But he was already checking out the master bathroom.

"There's a nice shower but no tub," he commented. Brenda joined him and said, "I was kinda hopin we would find a house with a jacuzzi in the bathroom. I would love a jacuzzi," she said wistfully. But it does have a nice make-up table. Nice lightin'. And twin sinks. Maybe that's as close as I'm gonna get to separate bathrooms."

"We definitely would want to paint these walls," Fritz commented. "I love the fact that the other bedrooms are on the opposite side of the house from the master bedroom." He leaned in and whispered, "Privacy."

"Definitely," Brenda agreed, "Let's check out the rest of the house."

"If I'm banished to this bathroom I guess I'd survive, even though it's on the other side of the house," he said as he turned on the light to the smaller, second bathroom. "This one sure is blue. Blue walls, blue tile, blue fixtures… Blue. Maybe you should take this one. It's got a tub/shower combination."

Brenda ignored him and looked at the second bathroom saying, "We'd have to change all that," before turning her attention to the other rooms. The other two bedrooms were smaller than the master bedroom, but they were both adequate. The closets were quite a bit smaller but would do for a guest bedroom. They both were obviously decorated for children and the walls were painted in bright colors.

When she turned her attention to one of the children's rooms she said, "I like pink, but this hot pink? You might as well have a neon light in here."

The fourth bedroom had been made into a play room but Fritz was especially taken with that room. While it was slightly smaller than the other bedrooms, it had a built-in book case. "Two desks would fit nicely in here. That way we could each have our own space," Fritz said, envisioning a clutter free workspace for himself. "If we put them up against this wall, there would be room over by the window for a day bed. And we could even put a filing cabinet in the closet."

"Come on before you move us in here," Brenda replied dryly. "Let's look at the kitchen." Fritz grinned and followed her. Just as they entered, she spied something that also pleased her. "Look, this little room is both a laundry room and a pantry. That's handy."

The kitchen was a large, galley style with L-shaped quartz countertops and fairly new stainless steel appliances. But, as nice as they were, Brenda didn't care for the cabinetry. "I'm ok with the quartz countertops. But I don't like these oak cabinets," she said as she moved her hand over the grain of one of the doors. "If we buy this house I'd want to replace them."

"That's probably too expensive for us to do right away," Fritz said. "But we could refinish the doors ourselves and put replacing them on our future project list."

"Do you know how to refinish cabinets? Because I don't."

"Not cabinets, specifically. But I've stained wood before," he explained and immediately shifted his attention to the rest of the room. "This kitchen doesn't have room for our dinette set. But there are bar stools at the end of the counter. That's probably where they eat most of their meals. Come on, let's take a look at the living room and then check out the yard and the pool."

"Our dinette set doesn't suit this house, anyway. But bar stools at the end of the counter would work, I guess."

The living room had a tray ceiling and crown molding as well as a large stone fireplace, and Fritz asked Bill if it was functional as it didn't appear to have been used recently.

"Yes and no," Bill replied. "We used it last year but something plugged the chimney, probably a bird's nest, and we haven't done anything about it," he admitted. "It would have to be checked and cleaned out before it could be used."

"Have you had a problem with birds gettin' in?"

"We've never had one get into the house, and there's a screen over the chimney. We're guessing that a bird built a nest up there, but we don't know for sure. If you buy the house, I'll leave the chimney sweep's business card for you," Sherrie offered.

"Thank you. That would be very helpful. Now, if you'll excuse us, my husband wants to see the yard and the pool."

"Certainly. You can go out through the lanai," Sherrie said and pointed to the French doors at the end of the dining room.

After walking around, Fritz observed, "The yard is in good shape. It looks like they put in a vegetable garden, but I would like to plant a privacy hedge back there, I think."

"Who knew you were such a frustrated country squire?" Brenda asked, tongue in cheek.

Fritz grinned, "Guilty as charged."

"What do you think of the pool?" Carol asked as she joined them.

"It looks perfect for us," Fritz said. "Do you know if there are any cracks or problems with it?"

"That's something they would have to declare and there's nothing written down. We can ask, though."

"That small buildin' over there… Is that a changin' room?"

"No, that's an outbuilding for the lawn mower and pool equipment. Would you like to see it?"

"No, I don't. But Fritz probably does."

While Carol unlocked the outbuilding for Fritz, Brenda walked back into the house. "I know my husband will want to know if there are any problems with the pool," she said to the Hansons.

"The pool heater needs to be replaced," Sherrie replied.

"We had it repaired but that only lasted a month and we were told that we'd have to replace it," Bill confirmed. "We didn't declare it because heaters are not required."

Sherrie saw a frown start to cloud Brenda's face and added hurriedly, "We let the chimney and the pool heater go because when Bill's company was bought out we were afraid that he would be laid off. So we felt we had to save every penny we could – just in case."

"And then when I found out I wasn't being laid off, and was being transferred instead, we didn't know how long it would take to sell this house, not to mention what our new housing costs would be. But both the pool and the structure of the chimney are in good shape," Bill reassured her.

"I see. Well, I guess the inspections would bear that out. When do you plan to move?"

"Bill has to start work in Dallas on the last Monday in April."

Fritz and Carol had returned in time to hear the Hansons' explanation about the pool heater and chimney. Carol waited until their conversation ended, then thanked them.

"Yes, thank you so much for showin' us your house," Brenda added.

"Do you have any questions we can answer for you?"

Fritz asked about the insulation and plumbing and then Brenda smiled, "I think my only questions were about the chimney and the pool, and you were very helpful."

* * *

The last house of the day was cheaper, but it wasn't as nice as the Hansons' home. Knowing that they wouldn't be putting in an offer on this house, they both just went through the motions.

On the way home, Brenda commented, "I think you'd move into the Hansons' house tomorrow if they'd clear out the spare room for you."

"That's definitely a house I could be happy in," he agreed.

"Do you want to make an offer?"

"I don't know. Carol mentioned some other houses we could see next weekend."

"Fritz, I'm sick of lookin' at houses. Everythin' is startin' to look alike to me. If you're sure you absolutely have to move, I want to put in an offer on the Hanson place."

"So you'd be ok with moving into that house?"

"I don't want to move at all. But if you really love that house, let's do it. Anythin' to stop this neverendin' house huntin'."

"There really wouldn't be much to do to get that house ready for us."

"Are you kiddin'? There's a lot we'd have to do. We'd have to paint, replace the pool heater, fix whatever is blockin' the chimney and refinish the kitchen cabinets. And I would want to pull up the carpet in the bedrooms and refinish the hardwood floors."

"We can check, but that might take more time than we have. Besides, I'd rather spend any money we'd have left for furniture."

"But we could look for a floorin' company that could refinish the floors right away," Brenda was adamant. "And I want to get rid of all that blue in the second bathroom."

"I'm more interested in fixing the chimney and replacing the pool heater. Both of those could be expensive. Why don't we paint the bathroom for now and replace the fixtures later? Besides, if I'm going to use that bathroom, I guess I can deal with the blue for awhile."

"Honey, you're not bein' relegated to that bathroom."

"Awww, thank you. I knew you loved me."

"Lovin' you has nothin' to do with it. I just have no intention of keepin' two bathrooms clean."

"Thanks a lot," Fritz grinned, "That makes me feel so wanted."

But Brenda had tuned him out. She was planning out loud. "We can check online for prices for pool heaters but we still won't know what it'll cost to fix the chimney until after the inspection."

"So, you're agreed? We're going to put in an offer?"

"Well, I liked that house the best. And the way you were talkin' I'm surprised you actually got into the car to come home."

That night they went over their finances again, as well as the house's utility bills and taxes, before deciding on an offer.

"I'll call Carol tomorrow and give this to her," Fritz smiled.

Dread, however, had once again built up in Brenda. She knew that the ensuing steps were likely to upend the well-ordered and predictable life she had struggled so hard to acclimate herself to. Nevertheless, she knew she should try to be positive for his sake so she gave him a weak smile. Fritz understood her feelings and gave her a reassuring hug in return.

* * *

Much to their dismay, the Hanson's counteroffer was still above their budget, so once again they sat down to figure out what their next step would be. "We have some money in this account that we could move. That might work," he said staring at their bank statements.

"But that wouldn't leave us any money to make repairs or buy the extra stuff we'll need. We'd even have a hard time coverin' our movin' expenses."

"Maybe we could take out a mortgage for part of the selling price. Then we'd have money for the rest of it."

"Fritz, I don't want to take out a mortgage."

"It would only be a small one. We could pay it off in five years, tops."

Brenda saw the logic in this but still didn't want to take out a mortgage. To her, the beauty of Fritz's inheritance from his former father-in-law was that they could buy a decent house without incurring any debt.

After more bargaining with each other, they prepared their counteroffer. Then they checked their calendars for times when they'd both be free to go to the bank in search of a mortgage if necessary.

* * *

When Brenda walked back into her office after a meeting with her first level supervisors, Linda handed her only one message. It was to call Fritz ASAP.

"Hey, Fritzi. What's up?"

"I just got a call from Carol," he said excitedly. "The Hansons changed their mind and accepted our first offer. Carol didn't even have time to present our counteroffer. It seems Bill's new boss wants him in Dallas two weeks earlier than they had planned. Apparently they're feeling the pressure to sell quickly. But they're taking all the appliances except the dishwasher, so we have to add those to the expense column."

"So, no more house huntin' and dickerin'? And no need for a mortgage?" Brenda couldn't keep the relief from her voice.

"No. You know, if Carol had given them our counteroffer, her commission would have been larger."

"Yeah, that's true. That was really generous of her."

"We'll have to think of a way to thank her. Oh, and speaking of Carol, she said she's going to arrange for the surveyors and the inspections. The man she uses is certified to inspect chimneys but he doesn't do any repair work. So we'll still have to find someone for that."

"Sherrie said she'd leave the business card of the chimney sweep company they use."

"Ok. And Carol also gave me the number of a locksmith. As soon as the Hansons move out, we'll get the locks changed."

Brenda was relieved that Fritz remembered her concern about changing all the locks. "So that's it, then. Everythin' is fallin' into place."

"I'll call her back right now and arrange to drop off a check for the earnest money. And then we can concentrate on appliances and paint samples," Fritz said happily.

"Well, don't get into shoppin' gear until I can stand up," Brenda cautioned.

"Stand up?"

"Yes. The wind from all your tail waggin' is approachin' hurricane velocity."

Fritz could hardly speak through his laughter. "I love you!"

_To be continued…_

**A/N: Once again I'm asking for your review.**

18


	5. Chapter 5

**The Path Home, Ch. 5**

**A/N: This chapter references my stories "Christmas with the Family," "Scrapbooks," and "The Visitor". **

**Also I want to give special thanks to Labyrinth for allowing me to borrow the characters of Lily Powers, Alexis, and Savannah from her wonderful "Welcome Her Home with Red Roses." If you haven't yet read it, what planet have you been on? **

**Chapter 5:**

Now that she was relieved of any house hunting responsibilities Brenda could concentrate on Easter. She began scouring her cookbooks and the internet for menus.

When Fritz came through the door he saw her studying the computer screen while the printer spit out several pages. "Hi, honey. What are you doing?"

"Did you know there are all these websites with menus and recipes?"

"I never thought much about it, but I guess there are websites for everything. But why are you searching for recipes? I thought we were taking Charlie and your father out for Easter dinner."

"We are. But I'll be cookin' on other days."

"Why don't you just cook whatever you fix when you're in Atlanta? And I can help some too."

"I might. But look at this great menu for Easter breakfast. Maybe I could fix this breakfast casserole."

"What about Charlie? Maybe she'll do some of the cooking."

"Maybe she will, but only if she volunteers. She's our guest so I don't want to ask her."

Fritz then took the conversation in a slightly different direction. "I have another idea for a dinner while Charlie and Clay are here."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Why don't we invite Lily Powers and Alexis for dinner. They invited us and it would only be polite to return the invitation."

"I don't think I can cook a meal for that many people."

"It would only be six people and Charlie would probably be willing to help. And think about her. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to introduce her to someone closer to her own age while she's here?"

"Yes, but…"

"Otherwise she's going to be left alone with Clay the entire time we have to work."

"Well, that wouldn't be good. But we don't even know if Alexis is gonna be in LA for Easter."

"It sounded to me like she comes for most of her school vacations. We can call and invite them. Lily will tell us if she's coming or not. And if she doesn't come I'm sure Lily will still enjoy being with us."

"Do you think she'd get along with Daddy?"

"She's a certified social worker, Brenda. I'm sure she has the skills and training to handle Clay. Besides, I think Lily would get along with just about anyone. It's just one dinner, and we really ought to return her invitation."

"All right, Emily Post. Do you still have her phone number?"

"Somewhere. I'll look for it after we eat."

While Brenda finished wiping off the kitchen counters, Fritz went rummaging through his desk. "I found it. Here, I'll dial the number for you."

"This is your idea, so you do it," she answered while drying her hands before walking to the desk.

"No. The hostess is supposed to issue the invitation." As he handed the receiver to Brenda he punched the keypad.

"God, you really are Emily Post… Hello, Lily? This is Brenda Johnson."

"Oh, hello, Brenda. How have you been?" Lily's voice radiated warmth.

"Fine, thanks. And you? Oh, by the way, thank you for the tea. It worked wonders."

"I'm so glad to hear that. If you need more, just let me know and I'll mix up another batch for you."

"Thank you. I'll remember that." Then Brenda switched gears. "The reason I'm callin' is that my father and my niece, Charlie, are comin' for Easter and I'm wonderin' if you would like to come for dinner one night while they're here. And of course, Alexis is included if she's comin' to visit you."

"I would love to visit with you and Fritz again. And meeting your father and Charlie will be a special treat. But I don't know if Alexis will be coming or not. She wants to go to Quebec for some spring skiing with some of her friends but Savannah doesn't feel that there will be adequate adult supervision. Maybe getting to see you and Fritz again and meeting Charlie will be enough of a lure that she'll call a truce with her mother," Lily explained with a chuckle.

"I hope so. But whether Alexis comes or not, we both would love to see you again. I need to warn you, though. I'm not nearly as good a cook as you are. Dinner will probably be just plain home-style southern cookin' because that's all I know how to fix. Nothin' fancy."

"That sounds wonderful, Brenda. I would be pleased to come. All I need is the date and the time."

"Well, Daddy and Charlie are arrivin' the Thursday before Easter. How does that Saturday at 7:00 sound?"

"It sounds just fine. What can I bring?"

"Just yourself. I have plenty of antacids in case I totally botch dinner."

"Now, I'm sure I won't need anything of the kind. I'm going to call Savannah tomorrow and see if this invitation doesn't put an end to the latest teenage drama currently playing center stage in Boston."

"Good. Just let me know. I'm lookin' forward to seein' you both again. And now I'm gonna give you to Fritz so he can give you directions."

"Thank you."

When Fritz hung up the phone she said, "Well, Alexis has other ideas for her vacation, but it sounds like her mother has put her foot down. So, if she comes, we definitely will have come in second place."

"I bet she comes. She seems to have a crush on you."

"I just hope the girls hit it off."

"I'm sure they will. They don't have to become best friends. I just think that it'll be nice for Charlie to have someone closer to her own age to talk to."

* * *

The following week, Carol Franklin called and said she had the results of the inspections. No major problems were found except the pool heater and the chimney cap and screen needed to be replaced. As suspected the blockage was caused by a bird's nest. She had called the Hansons and had obtained the phone number of Kick Ash, the business which had cleaned the chimney in the past. Fritz took down the information and said he'd make arrangements for the work to be done just as soon as they closed on the house.

"The Hansons would like to close during the week before they move but are requesting that they be permitted to remain in the house until they leave on the weekend."

"I don't think Brenda and I would have a problem with that."

"All right. Of course, they will be responsible for any damage which might occur during that time. Your lawyer can prepare the appropriate form for them to sign at closing. If you know the name of the attorney who will be handling things for you I'll make all the arrangements and I should be able to call you with the closing date within the next couple of days."

He gave her the name of the attorney who had represented them when they'd sold the bungalow and ended the call saying, "Thank you, Carol. We are so appreciative of everything you've done."

"Well, it sounds like we're gonna be homeowners," Brenda said without a smile.

"You don't look pleased."

"I was just thinkin' about havin' to pack everythin' up."

Fritz knew that the specter of change was really what was bothering her. "We'll be doing it together." When Brenda nodded with a weak smile, he said, "But since I did it the last time, it's your turn to do all the unpacking."

"Is that so?" she replied as she threw a pillow at him.

* * *

At their next therapy session, Brenda began to unpack something else. Something that had been on her mind. "Dr. Leonard, I've been thinkin' back on somethin' my neighbor said to me. She seemed to think that I invited Phillip Stroh to my house."

"Are you thinking that your neighbor's conclusion might be correct?"

"My first reaction was that it's ridiculous. But I've been thinkin' about it and now I don't know. I should have realized, by attackin' him to get his DNA and then bringin' Rusty home with me, that Stroh would come after me. So I'm wonderin'. Did I have some kind of death wish?"

Fritz was shocked. "Brenda, are you saying that you think you were suicidal?"

"I don't know what I'm thinkin'. But I've never thought of myself as suicidal. I always thought Stroh breakin' into my home was completely unexpected. But I should have known he would do that. After all, my whole career depended on bein' able to anticipate what criminals would do and to be one or two steps ahead of them."

"What do you think was different about the Phillip Stroh case?"

"She was totally obsessed with him," Fritz said.

"I was. And now I'm wonderin' if that obsession caused me to draw him to my home."

"Do you think that's what happened?" Dr. Leonard asked as she took notes.

"I don't know. I just keep comin' back to the fact that if it were any other case I would have known that he might stalk me and I would have been prepared."

"I don't think you were suicidal, Brenda. But I'd like you to consider the possibility that you subconsciously lured Phillip Stroh to your home in order to create a final confrontation with him."

"I can see that, honey," Fritz said softly. "You were afraid of him, but you were also determined that he would not be the one who got away."

Brenda's eyes once again filled with tears. "If that's true I almost cost Rusty Beck his life, too."

Fritz put his arms around his wife and said softly, "You didn't do it on purpose."

"Brenda, it is certainly possible that you subconsciously created the final confrontation in order to end your obsession with him and to put him behind bars where he belonged," Dr. Leonard intervened. "But I would like you to remember that you used your skill and strength to fight him off. And you saved not only your own life, but a boy's life, as well. In addition you probably saved the lives of several other women he would have victimized."

Brenda blinked away her tears, cleared her throat, and said, "I'm no longer obsessed with him. At least, not like I was before. Well, maybe I still am a little because I keep havin' flashbacks."

"But you haven't had any in quite a while," Fritz said.

"That's the medicine. Doctor, what do you think?"

"You've got a lot more understanding of the situation than you did when we started therapy. And you describe being much calmer."

"That's true. I am. I don't even get a stomach ache any more when I think about havin' to face him again in court."

"Are you afraid of having to testify against him?" Dr. Leonard probed.

"Not really. I don't even dread it. I've had a lot of experience testifyin' and I'm very good on cross-examination. I _really_ want my testimony to help put him away for the rest of his life."

"It sounds to me like you have confidence in your ability to get you through an unpleasant experience."

She nodded. "I guess so."

* * *

Brenda stood in the baggage claim area as the latest wave of passengers headed toward the luggage conveyor belts which were alternately sending forth the passengers' life essentials and reclaiming them again. Soon she saw Clay and Charlie and stepped forward with a smile to greet them.

"Aunt Brenda!" Charlie cried as she ran up and hugged her aunt. Clay trailed along at his own pace and also gave Brenda a hug and a kiss. Charlie's hair was a little longer than it had been at Christmas. It was no longer spiked and was back to its natural brunette color.

"You look wonderful, Charlie. And you're lettin' your hair grow. It's really becomin'."

"At least it's not red and green anymore," Clay muttered. "Now if she could get rid of all those holes in her face."

Charlie had heard her grandfather's complaints about her pierced nose and eyebrow many times so she just ignored his comments. "Thanks, Aunt Brenda. I got tired of bein' mistaken for a lesbian. Although if I'd been braver, that might have been fun."

"Charlene!" Clay was appalled that his granddaughter would say such a thing.

"Oh, Grandpa, I'm only kiddin'. See? Aunt Brenda's laughin'. She knows I'm not serious."

"Well, everyone who heard you doesn't know that."

Brenda broke in to change the subject. "Daddy, why don't you see if you can grab a luggage cart while Charlie and I get the bags."

When Clay returned with a cart, Brenda turned to him and said, "We found Charlie's but we haven't seen yours yet."

"Let me see. They'd better not have sent it to Timbuktu." He studied the carousel for a few minutes and finally reached for a suitcase at the same time a teenage boy grabbed for it.

"Hey, this is mine, gramps!" the teenager said.

"Oh, sorry, son. But just to make sure, how about checking the nametag?"

"Unless your name is also Brad Minton, this is mine."

"Well, where is mine, then?" Clay asked no one in particular as Brad took the bag and headed out the door.

"Daddy, you need to do somethin' to make your suitcase more identifiable," Brenda sighed.

"Well, I never remember it until I'm traveling." Just then he spotted his bag, checked the nametag and retrieved it triumphantly.

They took the shuttle bus to the parking lot and Clay loaded their suitcases into the back of Brenda's Prius. "Huh, I never thought they'd fit," he muttered as he closed the hatchback. While driving toward the toll booth, he noticed the lack of engine noise and asked, "Does this orange juice can on wheels have a motor?"

"No, Daddy. Just a rubber band… Of course it has a motor, but it runs on battery as much as it can. Now, no more complainin' about my car unless you want to buy me a new one and pay for all the gas it'll guzzle."

"Humph!"

"Grandpa, don't you think it's cool that Aunt Brenda drives a car that saves energy and doesn't put out so many greenhouse gases?"

"With all this traffic, I'd think it was cool if she drove a _real_ car that could hold its own in a crash," Clay replied.

"Don't worry. It holds its own very well, Daddy."

"And this thing rides so low it couldn't clear a cigar butt."

Brenda's phone rang, throwing her a lifeline by interrupting Clay's non-stop complaints, so she pushed the button on her steering wheel to answer it. Fritz's name appeared on the car's navigation screen. "Hi, honey. Are you home yet?"

"I'm at the light at the end of the block. Where are you?"

"We're still about half an hour out. Heavy traffic. How about orderin' pizza tonight?"

"Does Clay want to eat pizza?"

Clay, not sure where to direct his voice, hollered "Yes. Sausage, ham, onions and peppers."

"Daddy, the microphone is up by the rear view mirror. You don't have to yell. What about you, Charlie? Is pizza ok for supper tonight?"

"Sure, Aunt Brenda, but I'd like pepperoni."

"Did you get that, honey?"

"Yes, pepperoni. I'll order both. See you in a few minutes."

"Don't forget the cinnamon sticks. A double order. And Diet Dr. Pepper, if they have it."

"I bet they don't have Dr. Pepper in LA," Clay grumbled.

"Then you can drink Diet Coke, tea, or I'll make a pot of coffee," Brenda said. Then she turned back to Fritz, "Better get two bottles of whatever they have."

"Ok, see you in a few minutes."

When Brenda, Charlie and Clay entered the duplex, they saw Fritz hunched over a large brown plastic mound on the floor.

"What's that?" Brenda asked.

"An air mattress. I borrowed it from Tony. It's the same size as a twin bed so it's bigger than the sofa. I think it'll be more comfortable for Charlie."

"We'll have to stash it in our room Saturday night," Brenda commented.

"No problem. We can just slide it under the bed."

"What's Saturday night?" Clay asked.

"We're havin' company for dinner. We met a woman and her granddaughter at the airport. They invited us for dinner so we're returnin' the favor. Lily's granddaughter is seventeen, Charlie."

"Oh," Charlie said, unimpressed.

"I know she's a couple of years younger than you are, but she's more in your age range than all of us old fuddy duddies are."

"Aunt Brenda, you're not an old fuddy duddy. But I'm chill with havin' company for dinner," she shrugged. "Do you want me to cook?"

"Oh, no, honey. You're our guest. I'm gonna do it."

"No offense, Aunt Brenda. But your cookin' reputation precedes you. And not in a good way. If you want the company to survive, you'd better let me cook."

"Hey! I'm not _that _bad. Your Uncle Fritz and Grandpa have survived."

"Just barely," Clay muttered.

Brenda shot Clay a withering look, then she turned back to Charlie and said, "But I'd be glad for your help. And while we work you can tell me all about Georgetown. I probably wouldn't recognize the place after all this time."

"Great. What are we gonna cook?"

"Well, I found this menu on the internet but I've got to go shoppin' for the ingredients tomorrow," she replied as she handed Charlie a sheaf of printouts with the menu and recipes.

"Can I come with you?" When Brenda nodded, Charlie grinned, "This is gonna be fun."

Their pizza party was interrupted by the ringing phone. Since Fritz was the closest, he answered it. "Oh, hello, Carol. What can I do for you this evening?" Brenda's attention immediately snapped to the phone conversation. "Oh, ok. Let me get my calendar." Then he turned to Brenda and said, "Grab your calendar, honey. We have to reschedule the closing. Yes, Carol, Brenda is getting her calendar too. How does next Friday morning sound to you?" When Brenda nodded yes, Fritz turned back to the phone. "Next Friday is ok. 10:00 AM? We'll be there."

They stood by the phone talking softly and dividing up the responsibilities for getting everything in order for the early closing. Then Brenda expressed some misgivings. "This is all comin' together too fast. What if we forget somethin'?"

"Don't worry. Our attorney has the time to review everything before the closing and he'll let us know if we need to do anything else."

When they both returned to the table, Clay asked, "What's this about a closing?"

Fritz smiled, "Well, Brenda and I are buying a house."

"That's great!" Charlie cheered.

"Well, it's about time. I was wondering if you were ever going to give my daughter a proper home," Clay glared at Fritz.

"It took awhile…" Fritz started.

"Daddy, it's not Fritzi's fault. He's wanted a house forever. _ I'm_ the one who didn't want to move."

"Can we go see it?" Charlie asked.

"The present owners are still livin' in it so we can't go inside, but we could drive by it after dinner on Sunday," Brenda agreed. "But, Fritz is gonna try to get the final inspection scheduled for next Wednesday or Thursday. So you might get to come with us and see the whole thing."

"So, you're closing Friday morning?" Clay asked. When Brenda nodded he objected, "But we have to leave Friday morning."

"We'll take you to the airport and then go on to the closin'. It'll all work out."

Clay immediately began his usual complaint about having to get up early and get to the airport just to sit around for several hours. This time, instead of trying to soothe him, Brenda ignored him.

And Charlie did the same. Instead she turned to Brenda and asked, "When are you gonna move?"

"Our lease here doesn't expire until the end of May so we'll move then. That'll give us time to get the place ready," Fritz explained.

"I wish I could be here to help you guys move," Charlie replied.

"I wish you could too, honey. Packin', movin', and then unpackin' are way up on my list of things that I hate.

* * *

During their next therapy session, Dr. Leonard asked, "How do the two of you make major decisions in your marriage?"

"Well, we talk about it and come to an agreement together," Brenda replied.

Fritz corrected her. "Sometimes that's true, but I often have to be the one making the decision."

"Is that true, Brenda?" When Dr. Leonard saw Brenda nod, she asked, "Are you comfortable with Fritz making the big decisions by himself?"

"I don't know… I guess so. But don't get the idea that we don't talk about things because we do. But, well, he's logical and he thinks clearly about things so I trust him."

"Fritz, are you comfortable with that?"

"I'd rather she'd be more involved, but sometimes it's hard to get Brenda to sit down and have a serious discussion."

"Why is that?"

"She likes to avoid major issues, especially the unpleasant ones. So she'll make an excuse and run away. And when she won't discuss things, I just give up and make the decisions myself."

When Brenda heard that she dropped her head and began twisting her rings.

"Is that true, Brenda?"

"Well… Sometimes he wants to talk about things when I don't have the time to deal with them."

"When that happens, do you suggest another specific time to sit down and talk things through?"

"No. I just know that, if it's really important, he's gonna take care of it." She was now intensely examining her fingernails.

"Then, is Fritz right when he describes you as avoiding difficult or unpleasant discussions?"

Brenda cleared her throat before answering, "Sometimes."

"It hasn't just been an issue of timing, Doctor. Brenda often has tunnel vision. She refuses to look at the whole picture. She can only see things from one point of view. Then I have to make the decision."

"Does Fritz frequently step in when that happens?"

"Yes. Well, he used to," she replied grudgingly. "But it's not like that now. I'm doin' better."

"I see. And do you also make the decisions when he won't deal with things?"

"No, I never have to. He always deals with things."

"So do you depend on him to be the caretaker of your marriage?"

"I don't think of him as a caretaker. Our marriage isn't a 'nanny state', but he's almost always right about things."

"Fritz, do you feel you always have to be the perfect one in your marriage?"

"I don't think about it like that." Dr. Leonard noted his surprised expression and when she continued to look at him, he admitted. "But I guess I've always thought I had to be perfect. For everyone."

"You don't have to be perfect for me," Brenda said.

Dr. Leonard made note of Brenda's comment but focused on Fritz. "Why do you feel you have to be perfect for everyone?"

He felt his emotions surging and struggled to speak. "I've had to be perfect ever since my parents died."

When she heard that, Brenda took his hand.

"Tell me about that," Dr. Leonard encouraged.

Fritz struggled to maintain his composure. "My parents died in a plane crash when I was 18 and Child Welfare tried to take my younger sister away from me, too. All we had left was each other. I had to prove to the judge that I could maintain my college grades, take care of her, the house, and keep us both out of trouble before I could get guardianship of her."

"So, keeping your sister meant you had to be perfect. That's a lot to ask of a boy."

"Yes, it was. But I did it. It was the only way I could keep Child Welfare from taking her away from me and putting her up for adoption." As he spoke his composure crumpled. His chin trembled and he teared up. Brenda turned to him and put her arms around him. She held him and rubbed his back as he cried.

Dr. Leonard handed him a box of tissues as she spoke. "So that terrible event made you feel you had to be perfect in every way. You said that you're a recovering alcoholic. Did the need to be perfect at all times contribute to your drinking too much?"

Fritz left Brenda's arms but still couldn't speak. He just nodded and gripped Brenda's hand.

"Yet you've remained clean and sober for over ten years now. Is that also a struggle for perfection?"

Fritz recovered his composure. "No, regaining sobriety was a struggle for survival. I didn't have any choice there, either. I would have lost my job and maybe my life if I hadn't gone into rehab and then AA."

"Was your struggle for perfection a factor in the failure of your first marriage?"

"My first wife was bipolar and I had to work extra hard to hold my marriage together. Her stability depended on me and she was unforgiving of any slip-ups."

"Did it work?"

"For awhile. But eventually it failed."

"And you got divorced."

"Yes."

"What was that like for you?"

"It was terrible. I felt like I had failed in keeping my marriage vows."

"Why do you feel that that failure was yours?"

"I took those vows seriously, Doctor. It was up to me to honor them."

"But that responsibility wasn't yours alone," Brenda interjected.

"Cindy was mentally ill. She couldn't keep them."

"Is Brenda right, Fritz? It sounds like you felt that it was up to you to maintain your first marriage all by yourself. But you couldn't have done that, no matter how hard you tried."

Again Fritz just nodded. He was still struggling to maintain his composure.

"And you're trying to do the same thing in maintaining this marriage. Even though you have a healthier partner, you're still trying to be perfect."

"I'm far from perfect, Doctor."

"But do you feel you have to try to maintain perfection to keep this marriage?"

"I… I don't know."

"Brenda, do you love Fritz?"

"Yes, of course."

"Tell him how you feel."

She turned and faced him and spoke earnestly. "I love you more than anyone else on earth."

"Good. And do you feel you need to be perfect for him?"

"No, I'm not even close to perfect. And he certainly knows that."

"Fritz, Brenda isn't perfect, but she loves you." Then Dr. Leonard turned back to Brenda. "Is your marriage important to you?"

"Yes, of course it is. It's the most important thing in my life."

"Are you willing to share the work of maintaining your marriage?"

"Yes, of course. At the beginnin' of our marriage, I always put my job first. But I don't do that anymore. I know it must sound like Fritz makes all the decisions by himself, but it's not like that all the time. I'm workin' on it and I'm doin' better."

"She's right. She is trying harder."

"So, Brenda is becoming more involved in building and keeping your marriage strong." When Dr. Leonard saw Fritz nod, she continued. "And how does Brenda sharing more of the responsibility feel to you?"

"It feels good, more like a real partnership."

"Earlier we spoke of you hiding your nightmares from Brenda. Is that the only thing you've withheld from her?"

As Brenda shook her head, Fritz looked at her. "What else have I hidden from you?"

"You hid your alcoholism from me. And you hid your promotion from me a couple of years ago. And, until Cindy came to our front door, you never told me anythin' about your first marriage."

"But you never wanted to hear about my drinking or about my first marriage."

"That's true. And that was my failin'. I never wanted to deal with anythin' unpleasant."

"Brenda, as you look back, what do you think now about your refusal to be more involved in your marriage?"

"It was really unfair to Fritz, and to our marriage. I was dumpin' all the responsibility on him and runnin' off to work. I knew how to solve crimes but I didn't know how to make my marriage work. I'm figurin' that out as we go. It doesn't seem to come naturally to me," she admitted.

"I'm glad you recognize that, Brenda. That's real growth on your part." Dr. Leonard then turned back to Fritz, "But do you now understand that, even if Brenda wanted to avoid unpleasant issues, it still was important that you tell her about them?"

"I did finally force her to listen to me about my alcoholism. But it was wrong of me not to tell her sooner, or to tell her about the other things."

"Tell me why you felt you needed to hide things from Brenda."

"I can't risk losing her. I can't imagine my life…" Once again, his shoulders sagged and emotion choked off his voice.

"Is that what you think would happen if she realized that you aren't perfect?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. They're not little things and I just couldn't risk it."

Brenda squeezed his hand. "You'll never lose me. I love you too much."

"How do you feel about what Brenda just said?"

"I know she means it, but she doesn't know how bad I can be."

"What would happen if she were to see that you aren't perfect?"

"I don't want her to ever see anything that would make her question if she wants to stay with me."

"Despite her avoidance, Brenda is very perceptive. Doesn't she already know those things? And you just heard her say that she wouldn't leave you."

Fritz nodded, then turned to Brenda and smiled. "Yes, I did. You did say that."

"I'd like you to consider something, Fritz. Brenda doesn't feel the need to always be perfect and yet you love her. Does she love you less than you love her?"

"No, she doesn't." Fritz looked at Brenda and smiled again.

"Our time is up for today but I want to give you both an assignment. I want you to spend time this week discussing every issue that comes up in your marriage. Schedule specific times, if you need to. And be honest with each other."

"We will," they both replied.

Brenda took a clean tissue and blew her nose, then picked up her purse. Fritz let out a deep sigh. As he stood up, his muscles ached and he felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him. Yet he felt relieved. Not only were his secrets now out in the open and a painful session was over, but Brenda's response had been a heartfelt demonstration of her continued love for him. And his heart felt lighter. Walking to their car, Brenda put her arm around Fritz's waist and he responded by putting his arm around her. As they walked, their closeness filled their hearts.

* * *

That night, lying in bed, Brenda ran her fingers through Fritz's hair and caressed his face. She feathered kisses over his face and softly said, "I love you more tonight than I did this mornin'."

_To be continued…_

**A/N: Please review.**

19


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This chapter references my "Christmas with the Family," as well as Labyrinth's delightful characters of Lily and Alexis from her story "Welcome Her Home with Red Roses".**

**Chapter 6:**

Saturday afternoon, while Brenda and Charlie were busy in the kitchen, Clay found a channel devoted entirely to shows on cars. Fritz hadn't realized that there was such a thing as the Velocity Network, let alone that their cable package included it. Clay was totally energized by the never ending programs on buying, restoring, and reselling old cars, drag racing, car auctions, and all things pertaining to anything which rolled on four wheels. And everything on the screen was accompanied by his running commentary.

For his part, Fritz was jealous of the chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen, but he was stuck with Clay's play-by-play. Finally he was able to extricate himself by saying that he wanted to change his clothes and then help the women by setting the table before their guests arrived. As he retrieved the table settings from the kitchen cupboard he smiled when he heard two similar southern accents flying joyously back and forth.

Promptly at 7:00 there was a knock on the door. Brenda removed her apron and smoothed her hair as she called out, "Charlie, come meet our guests." Then she took a slight detour so she could grab the remote and turn off the TV.

"Hey!" Clay growled.

"Daddy, our company is here," Brenda replied, in an exasperated tone. "He's been grouchy ever since he got here," she mumbled as she headed to the door.

When she opened the door, her demeanor changed. She was all smiles as she greeted Lily and Alexis. Lily's hair was swept up in an elegant chignon and she was wearing a simple, tailored navy blue suit with a white blouse and a jewel-toned scarf. Alexis was dressed more casually in black low rise skinny kick jeans, with two small holes strategically placed on her hip and leg, and a beige boat-neck sweater. Her red hair was in one long braid interwoven with a black ribbon.

Lily handed Brenda a small package and said softly, "I know you said you weren't having nightmares right now, so just consider this an insurance policy in case they return."

This brought a smile to Brenda's lips and she gratefully replied, "I will. Thank you so much."

Fritz stepped up to the door. He smiled broadly as he greeted his guests. "Let me take your coat," he offered and Lily handed him the coat she carried over her arm.

While Fritz was hanging up the coat, Brenda made the introductions. "Lily and Alexis, I'd like you to meet my father, Clay Johnson, and my niece, Charlie Johnson. Lily Powers and her granddaughter, Alexis Powers-Rosenthal."

Clay and Charlie each shook hands with Lily and Alexis. As Alexis greeted Charlie, she became animated. "I'm especially glad to meet you, Charlie. Brenda and I sat next to each other on a plane last year and she told me about you."

"Well, thank you, Alexis," Charlie responded. "She told me about you, too. By the way, I love your nose ring."

"Thanks. I bought it here last summer."

"Really? You'll have to tell me where. I'd like to get somethin' like it."

"Why don't we have a seat in the livin' room?" Brenda asked. "We made some appetizers. Charlie, why don't you bring them in? May I offer you a glass of wine or tea?"

"Thank you. I'll have a glass of wine," Lily replied.

"I'd take one too, but Gigi would kill me. And then she'd tell my mother so I'd die a second death," Alexis grinned.

"In that case I'd better pour you a glass of tea," Brenda replied with a smile. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to finish gettin' dinner ready."

"I'll help you," Fritz said, "Please excuse me, everyone," as he followed his wife into the kitchen where she immediately put him to work scrubbing and chopping vegetables.

After Charlie passed the tray of appetizers she asked Alexis, "I thought your grandmother's name was Lily. Why do you call her 'Gigi'?"

"When I was little, Gigi took care of me and she was obsessed with feeding me healthy things. She was really into nuts and berries so I started calling her 'Granola Granny'. Then it just got shortened to GG and that turned into Gigi."

"That's true," Lily confirmed. "And look what a wonderful girl all those nuts and fruits created."

Alexis grinned and turned to Charlie and asked, "Brenda says that you're a freshman at Georgetown. "Do you live in a dorm? Was it scary leaving your family to go off to college?" This prompted a lengthy discussion between the two girls. "I think the best thing about college will be that I'll finally be able to make some decisions on my own," Alexis commented enthusiastically.

"I sure do know how that feels. Until I got to college I didn't think I had a right to my own opinions. Where do you want to go?"

"I've applied to UCLA. That's my first choice. And I also applied to Pepperdine as backup. I want to study art and UCLA has a great program. I really want to live with Gigi and commute but she's insisting that I live on campus."

"It may not be your jam, but there are advantages to livin' on campus. There's always somethin' goin' on, and it's great bein' so close to everythin' you need."

Alexis then changed the subject. "What happened to your hair? Brenda said it was red and green."

"Oh, that was just for Christmas. But I saw a woman in the airport on the way out here. Her hair was bleached white and she had one stripe of pink. It was gorgeous. I think I might like to try that when I get back to school."

"That sounds great. Do you always dye your hair? I'd love to see how I'd look with hair like that. Since I'm an artist, lots of the kids I hang with are artists too, and some of them color their hair. I'm definitely changing its color after I graduate. Of course my mom will stroke out."

"Yeah, my mom did too, at first. Then Aunt Brenda got cans of color spray so we all had red and green hair Christmas day."

"I sure wish I could have seen that."

"I think I still have a pic of it on my phone. Let me see if I can find it," and Charlie pulled out her cell phone and began scrolling through her photos. "Here's one. See? Even the little kids had red and green hair, thanks to Aunt Brenda and her cans of spray-on color."

Alexis accepted the phone from Charlie and eagerly looked at the photo. "My parents are too old-fashioned to ever do anything like this. They're so 19th century." She checked to see if her grandmother had overheard her. When she saw no reaction from Lily, she turned back to the image on the cell phone. "Brenda is so cool."

Then a light bulb turned on over Alexis' head. "I've got an idea. Do you have a pen or pencil and some plain paper here?"

"There's probably some paper in the printer. Why?"

"I could sketch you with the white and pink hair so you could see what it'll probably look like."

"That's a great idea. I'll get some," Charlie replied as she got up and walked to the printer. "Here."

Alexis accepted the pen and paper from Charlie and began sketching as she said, "It'll just be an ink sketch but maybe you can get the idea." After a few more questions about the placement of the pink stripe, she turned the sketch around so Charlie could see it.

"Wow, Alexis, you're really good. I hadn't thought about that hair style before but it looks great."

"You'd need to let your hair grow for a while longer to wear it like this, though. But this style is dramatic and I think it would be totally sick with the white and pink color," Alexis explained as she handed the drawing to Charlie.

"Thanks. I'm gonna see if I can do this when I get back to Georgetown. Just don't tell Grandpa. I don't want him to have a coronary."

"I won't say anything," Alexis promised. She was grinning with pride that she was able to do something that her new, older friend appreciated.

As Fritz entered the room to check on the appetizer tray, he overheard the girls talking enthusiastically about tattoos and he smiled when he heard Alexis say, "My parents and I had an epic knock down, drag out about a tat. That's one more thing I have to wait for college to get."

Charlie noticed that Brenda was momentarily alone in the kitchen and turned to Alexis. "I need to check on how things are goin' in the kitchen."

"Oh, ok. I'll come with you."

"Reportin' for KP," Charlie announced as they entered the kitchen.

"Thank you, honey, you can take this pitcher and fill the water glasses on the table. And, Alexis, if you'd like a job you can stir the pots on the stove."

While she checked and stirred the pots, Alexis turned to Brenda. "You were a police officer for eight years, right?"

"Well, I was with the LAPD for almost 8 years. But, before that I was with the Atlanta Police Department for three and a half years. And before that, with the Washington DC Metro Police Department for three and a half years."

"Wow. Did you investigate murders for all that time?"

"Pretty much."

"Did you have to shoot a lot of people? How many people have you killed?"

Brenda turned and faced Alexis. "They weren't notches on my belt. They…"

"But they were all criminals, right?"

"My goodness, Alexis, when did you become so blood thirsty?" Charlie came back into the kitchen so Brenda turned to her. "Charlie, how are the Brussels sprouts comin' along?"

"They're roasted to perfection, Aunt Brenda, so I'm gonna turn off the oven and make the gravy."

After the gravy was made, Charlie and Alexis left Brenda and Fritz in the kitchen to finish up and returned to the living room. While the girls were chatting, Lily and Clay were also getting to know one another.

"Brenda says y'all met at the airport?" Clay asked.

"That's right. Fritz and I were both waiting for the same plane. Brenda was returning home after spending a month with you, I believe. And Alexis was flying out for a short vacation before starting school. They were actually seat mates and Brenda kept her entertained with stories about funny things that happened while she was with the LAPD. Alexis is really taken with your daughter."

Clay was equally taken with Lily. Her voice was so warm and serene, and she was obviously intelligent and well-educated, as well as impeccably groomed. She appeared to be what Clay would describe as a "real classy lady", yet Alexis had indicated that she was what he had always considered to be a "tree-hugging hippie". He had never met anyone like her.

"I saw you give Brenda a bag of leaves and twigs to eat," Clay commented.

Lily laughed and replied, "I mixed up some herbal tea for her."

"Oh, herbal tea," Clay said trying unsuccessfully to hide his misgivings.

"Herbs can do more than just season our food, Clay. Some of them have marvelous healing powers. Most people don't look beyond a pharmacy for our drugs these days but herbs have been used as medicines for centuries. For instance, did you know that foxglove is used to make heart medication today?"

"What?"

"It's true. Foxglove is used to make digitalis."

"I did not know that. How is it that you know so much about herbs?"

"They're a hobby of mine."

"Really? But to eat all that funny stuff? I just don't know. I'm a meat and potatoes man, myself. I just don't understand how anyone can survive on tofu and tree bark."

"Oh, I'm not a vegetarian. I believe in a well-rounded diet. I love variety." Lily's voice was calm and stress-free.

When Brenda came into the room with the roll basket and butter, Alexis practically shouted, "Brenda, Charlie says you bought a house! When I come back this summer, can I come to dinner again so I can see it?"

Lily raised her hands to her face and then said, "Oh, my! Once again, good manners fall victim to adolescent enthusiasm. Alexis, we can't just invite ourselves."

"Of course we'll invite you and your grandmother again. But before we make plans for this summer let's see if we all survive my cookin' tonight."

"Aunt Brenda, Alexis said that she's an artist and that she did a drawin' of you and Uncle Fritz."

"That's right, she did. We framed it and it's hangin' in the bedroom."

"You framed it? Really?" Alexis was beaming.

"We sure did."

"May we go see it?" Charlie asked.

"Sure, honey, go ahead. Fritz and I can handle gettin' these things on the table."

The girls disappeared into the bedroom. When they came back, Charlie said, "Wow, Aunt Brenda. That's one hot drawin' of the two of you."

Brenda laughed, "Well, Charlie, you have to remember that Uncle Fritz and I hadn't seen each other in a month."

"I had no idea old people acted like that," Alexis said, "So I just had to draw them."

"Aunt Brenda and Uncle Fritz aren't old. They're just not teenagers anymore. But they still have juice."

"We sure do," Fritz said with a twinkle in his eye as he entered the kitchen and made a playful grab for Brenda.

"Friiiitz…" Brenda pretended to scold while the girls laughed.

The laughter caused Clay and Lily to turn their attention to the kitchen just as Brenda brought two bowls to the table. Lily noticed Clay's frown directed at his daughter. "Clay, forgive this nosy old lady for prying, but you seem upset with Brenda for some reason."

He stared at Lily for a minute. And she looked back at him with warm, encouraging eyes so he continued, "I don't quite know what it is. She just seems so different."

"Really? I hadn't noticed. What about her has changed?"

"She seems happy."

"Why does that bother you?"

Lily's tone and expression were of concern, not criticism. Even so, Clay stumbled through his answer. "I don't mean that. I don't know what I mean. I mean… Well… Her mother has been gone for only eight months and she's acting like she's already forgotten all about Willie Ray."

"Oh, please don't think that. While I don't know her as well as you do, I'm very sure that she has not forgotten her mother. But it's healthy for her to let go of some of her grief. Fritz told me once that she wants to pay more attention to the living, and that's a healthy thing. I'm sure that she still loves and misses her mother."

Clay just nodded.

"It's never easy, I know," Lily gently explained. "But it's something that has to happen. Otherwise we'd become emotionally crippled. I know that I still miss my Walter. But I can't shut myself up in my house with my memories and stop living."

"I'm trying to do the same thing, Lily. I really am. But Willie Ray was my entire life for over fifty years. I just don't know what to do with myself. Sometimes it seems that life doesn't matter anymore. And it hurts to see my children going on with their lives."

Lily saw that he had tears in his eyes. "Do you want them to be monuments to their mother, carved in granite and frozen in time?"

"Well, when you put it like that… But Brenda has never been a monument to Willie Ray. As a matter of fact, sometimes I don't know who she is. She's never wanted to do anything we wanted her to do."

"In what way?"

"We wanted her to go to Emory University in Atlanta. She went to Georgetown. We wanted her to get a job in Atlanta, maybe as a teacher or a college professor. She went to work for the State Department and traveled all over the world, to terrible, dangerous places. Then she became a police officer. And not just any police officer. She investigated murders - in Washington, DC, of all places. And when she finally returned home, we wanted her to stay in Atlanta but she turned right around and moved clear across the country to Los Angeles. And when she finally got engaged to Fritz, we wanted her to get married and give us more grandchildren. She delayed getting married for over a year and then continued with her job instead of having children. The truth is, she has rejected everything we wanted her to be. She's nothing like Willie Ray."

"I never met Willie Ray so I have no idea whether she's like her or not. But I do know that you both raised a talented, independent, intelligent woman. She married a good man who loves her immensely, and she's made a great career keeping the rest of us safe from all manner of danger. Brenda couldn't have done all that if she hadn't been raised by two loving and committed parents. She is definitely a daughter to be proud of."

"Maybe. I just don't know anymore. Nothing is the same without Willie Ray."

"She's your and Willie Ray's only daughter. It's only natural that you want her to be a reflection of who her mother was. But whether she is or not, she's a remarkable woman. And that's something both you and Willie Ray made possible. But, most importantly, she's on a good path, in spite of several upheavals in her life."

Clay looked at her and smiled. "A good path." He smiled as he tasted those words. "A good path. Yes, she is, isn't she? I like that."

When Brenda announced that dinner was served, she noticed that Clay maneuvered to sit next to Lily instead of his usual move to usurp the head of the table. As they took their seats, Brenda said, "I hope you enjoy everythin'. Charlie and I did most of the cookin' together. If she hadn't helped me I'd have had to check your health insurance cards at the door." This drew a laugh from everyone.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy it," Lily said and turned to Charlie. "If you helped with all this, you did an excellent job. Everything looks and smells wonderful."

"Thank you. I love to cook so this was fun for me."

"No point in letting everything get cold. This chicken fried steak looks great. Lily, may I hold the platter while you help yourself?" Clay asked, without saying the blessing. "And here's the white gravy."

Brenda watched her father attend to Lily. When she saw Fritz looking at her she picked up her fork and said, "I sure hope y'all like it," and then began eating.

"Brenda, this is delicious," Lily said. "I thought you said you're not a good cook."

"Thank you," Brenda smiled back. "But I couldn't have done it without Charlie. She's an excellent cook."

"Thanks, Aunt Brenda."

"Lily is right," Clay agreed. "Both of you prepared a delicious dinner."

"Charlie, how did you become such a good cook?" Alexis asked.

"My parents both work so I started cookin' dinner when I was in junior high. At first it was just easy things. Hamburger Helper, Sloppy Joes - that kind of thing. But before long I was cookin' most everythin' and I learned to love it."

"I like to cook some, too, but I wouldn't want to have to do all the cooking," Alexis said.

"Yeah, if you're gonna cook all the time, you really should enjoy it."

"But it never hurts to add new skills to your repertoire," Lily commented.

Alexis nodded, then she and Charlie continued their college conversation. "I'm so glad to be able to talk to someone who actually has been to college. None of my friends are there yet."

At the end of the evening, Clay retrieved Lily's coat and, while Brenda couldn't hear the conversation, she observed Clay write something on a piece of paper, smile and put it in his pocket.

After goodbyes were said and the front door finally closed behind the visitors, Clay asked, "Would it be ok if I borrowed one of your cars next Wednesday night?"

"Why, Daddy? What's happenin' Wednesday?"

Clay saw Brenda's puzzled expression. "Nothing to worry about, little girl. I just asked Lily to have dinner with me, that's all."

Fritz saw Brenda's spine stiffen and, before she could reply, put his arm around her waist. "Sure, Clay. I usually get home from work around 5:30 or 6:00. You can use my car any time after that."

"Thank you, Fritz. I might need some suggestions about where to go for dinner, not to mention directions. I'm not sure I know how to use your car's navigation system."

"I'll be happy to help you in any way that I can," he reassured Clay.

* * *

When Fritz came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, he saw the storm clouds swirling together over Brenda's side of the bed. She was sitting up, her arms folded, and a black scowl covered her face.

_Here it comes,_ he thought. "Honey, are you all right?"

"How could he, Fritz? How could Daddy start datin' so soon after Mama died?"

He got into bed and turned to her. "Maybe it's not a date. Maybe he's just lonely and would like some time with someone closer to his own age."

"Oh, no. It's a date." The scowl deepened.

"You were fine with Alexis and Charlie spending time together. Just because Lily is a woman doesn't mean…"

"Don't be ridiculous. You saw how Daddy was all over her at dinner. I never saw him act that way before. He definitely didn't treat Mama that way. That's how a man acts when he's datin'."

"What if he is sick and tired of always being alone? What if he is ready to date again?"

"After only eight months? He can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's an insult to Mama. It's like now that she's gone he's movin' on to someone else without any regard for her memory."

"So do you want to put him up on a shelf and keep him there forever? Will you remember to dust him occasionally?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. He's not showin' any respect for Mama."

"Honey, why don't you get a good night's sleep tonight and talk to him tomorrow?"

"I don't think I can sleep. All I can think about is the way he was all purrin' around Lily."

"I don't think that Lily…"

"Oh, I don't blame her. She doesn't know how long Mama's been gone. And you told me that her husband has been gone for two years now."

Fritz knew better than to tell Brenda that he had told Lily that Willie Ray died at the end of July. "Maybe he just wants a friend closer to his own age. Taking her out to dinner doesn't mean that…"

"You're repeatin' yourself. Of course it's a date."

"Even if you're right, he's going back to Atlanta next week. Nothing is going to happen between them."

"But how do I know he won't start datin' women in Atlanta?"

"If he is ready to start dating again, it wouldn't be the end of the world. Look, why don't you get a some sleep and talk to him tomorrow?"

"You know that you're drivin' me crazy repeatin' yourself. I heard you the first time. And, anyway, how can I sleep thinkin' about my daddy runnin' around on Mama?"

"He's not 'running around', Brenda. He's a grown man and he's single again. Maybe he's ready."

"He can't be ready. It's not time yet."

"And just how long does he have to wait to satisfy you?" Brenda had no answer for that. She just sat there, propped up on her pillow and fuming. After a minute Fritz asked, "Do you want me to brew a cup of Lily's tea for you?"

"Yes… No. Charlie has gone to bed so you can't go into the kitchen and turn on lights."

"Ok. What about your essential oils? Would you like to use them?"

"Where are they? Oh, they're right here in the drawer. I'll get them."

After she rubbed the oils on and they turned out the lights, Fritz held her and softly said, "You know, if anything ever happens to me, I don't want you to sit by yourself and just be lonely. When you're ready, I would like you to begin dating again. And don't let anyone else try to decide when that should be."

"I can't imagine ever datin' again. When we got engaged, I meant it when I told you that I was glad I never, ever had to date again."

"I wouldn't think you were being disloyal to my memory. Just the opposite, in fact."

"Just the opposite? Why?"

"Do you think I want everyone we know to think that being married to me was such a miserable experience that you can't bear the thought of trying to be happy again? Because I don't. When you're ready, I want the world to realize that we had such a wonderful marriage that you want to try again."

She put her head on his chest and her finger on his lips. "Hush. I can't think about ever losin' you."

He just kissed the palm of her hand and held her until they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Easter dinner at the Bourbon Street Restaurant was a Cajun buffet feast. Clay was in his glory. His eyes positively shone when he saw the pile of crawdads and the steaming pots of gumbo, pans of jambalaya, Creole Macquechoux, Blackened Catfish, and Shrimp Étouffée. His mouth was watering and he was chomping at the bit long before their waiter took their drink orders.

For her part, Brenda had her eyes on the dessert table. The La Reine Cake, New Orleans Bread Pudding, Coconut Buille Tarts, and the Cajun Chocolate Pecan Pie had her on the verge of drooling.

Finally their drink orders were placed and they snaked their way around the buffet tables. While they were eating, Charlie asked, "Aunt Brenda, Alexis wants to show me the UCLA campus. Do you mind?"

"No, of course not. When do you plan to go?"

"Well, she has to ask her grandmother about usin' her car so we don't know yet. But, how does Tuesday or Wednesday sound to you?"

"If she can't get the car, maybe Brenda could drive me to work and you could use mine," Fritz offered. "Of course, since your grandfather wants to use it Wednesday night you'd have to have it back in plenty of time."

"Ok, that would be great. She knows her way around LA and says she knows of a cool place for lunch where kids play music and read poetry. Alexis says it's sick. And the best part is that it's right next to the jewelry store where she bought that great nose ring. But we'd be back before supper so that would give Grandpa plenty of time for his date."

"It's not a date, Charlene. It's just dinner with a new friend. Just like you going sightseeing with Alexis is spending time with a new friend," Clay explained, without changing his granddaughter's mind or allaying Brenda's misgivings.

"Uh huh. Sure it is, Grandpa," Charlie smirked, then changed the subject. "Uncle Fritz, after we finish eatin' will you take us by your new house?"

"You don't think you can wait until the final inspection to see it?" Fritz chuckled.

"I can. But if we go home now we'll have to watch the Velocity Network all afternoon."

"There's nothing wrong with the Velocity Network," Clay objected. "That's good, clean entertainment." And you can learn some good tips about maintaining your car."

* * *

When Fritz pulled up in front of the house so they could get a good look, Clay immediately began criticizing, saying that he couldn't understand why Fritz would buy a house that was no bigger than the bungalow. Brenda had to bite her tongue in order to keep from lashing out at him. After checking his wife's mood in the rear view mirror, Fritz calmly reminded Clay that he was only seeing the front and suggested that he'd think otherwise once he had seen the entire house.

Charlie, however, was predictably complimentary and, as they drove off, said, "I'll bet you're excited to move in."

"Yes, Charlie. We both are," Brenda replied. But even as she spoke, her stomach tightened a little.

_To be continued…_

**A/N: Please leave your review.**

16


	7. Chapter 7

**The Path Home, Ch. 7**

**Chapter 7:**

When Brenda arrived at her office on Monday, Sgt. Gabriel was waiting to present his findings to her. After listening to his presentation she thanked him as she picked up her phone. "Fritz, can you come to my office sometime this mornin'? I may have a rather high profile case for you."

Later, when Fritz knocked on her door, she waved him in, picked up her phone and asked Sgt. Gabriel to return to her office and to bring all the information he had gathered on Molina and the Bentley. While waiting she laid the case out for Fritz. "That Bentley was originally purchased new by Dan Hart less than a week ago and immediately transferred to Garrett Molina, the lead defense counsel in his bribery case. Accordin' to paperwork filed with the court, Molina is bein' paid the maximum state law allows. Since no money changed hands in the transfer of the Bentley, it appears that they were tryin' to hide the fact that the law had been violated. And, since the Bentley was purchased in Las Vegas, it crossed state lines so I suspect this might be somethin' of interest to the FBI."

David then showed Fritz the documentation he had on the sale and transfer of the Bentley. As he handed the file to Fritz he added , "It looks like this kind of activity has happened before with some of Molina's other clients. There's the gift of a guest house built on his private island in the Bahamas, and another one of a boat house built there, the remodeling of the kitchen in another home in the Hamptons. All of those were at no charge to Molina. And there's another gift of a yacht slip at a marina. In each case, he was representing the people who gave those gifts at the time, and he was additionally paid the legal limit for his services.

"Also, Dan Hart was apparently shaking down his suppliers so it looks like there might be a racketeering charge there, as well. At least it's worth pursuing because, as you can read in my notes, everyone felt they were strong-armed into giving those gifts and they're eager to talk, provided they won't be in any trouble themselves."

"That's very interesting," Fritz replied. "Thank you, both of you. I'll take it from here."

* * *

When Fritz got back to the Federal Building he went directly to his boss with Sgt. Gabriel's findings.

"I think we've had some complaints about Molina in the past," Dave Martin said as he buzzed his secretaryand asked her to find any information the Bureau had on both Garrett Molina and Dan Hart and bring it to him. Then he continued, "I seem to remember a complaint about a shakedown several years ago. After the complainant reported it, Molina resigned as his counsel. Because he lost his lead counsel there was speculation that he influenced the remaining attorneys to back off so the complainant lost in court to the tune of several million dollars. And everyone who was ready to sign a statement changed their minds when they saw what happened, so we never were able to do anything."

"I'd be very interested to know if Molina declared all these gifts as income on his tax returns," Fritz commented.

"That's a good thought. I'll ask the US Attorney to get the proper paperwork ready so if we do get affidavits from these clients we can act right away." After they reviewed Sgt Gabriel's information Dave stated, "If this is going to go anywhere we have to move fast. I want you to take the lead but we need a lot more agents interviewing victims simultaneously and getting their affidavits. If word of the LAPD's inquiries hasn't gotten back to Molina yet, we might have a chance of catching him."

After several agents were assigned the names of possible victims, Fritz and the other agents fanned out and went to work. By the end of the day they had begun taking statements and criminal cases were being assembled.

Dave entered the conference room where the assigned agents were working, read the files and smiled. "You've all done excellent work. Let's move on this quickly and get indictments."

* * *

Tuesday morning at breakfast Clay asked, "Brenda Leigh, is there a one hour dry cleaner around here?"

Fritz answered for her. "I pass one on my way to work. If you're thinking you want to get your suit cleaned for tomorrow, I can drop it off for you."

"Thank you, Fritz. Save the receipt and I'll pay you tonight."

"Send your tie out too, Grandpa, and your dress shirt. And, if Aunt Brenda and Uncle Fritz have shoe polish, I'll shine your shoes for you."

"That's a good idea. Thank you, Charlene."

Fritz looked over at Brenda. She was being too quiet, and her mouth was drawn in a tight line. When she caught Fritz looking at her she got up and walked into the kitchen. "More coffee, anyone?"

"No thank you, honey. I need to get going," Fritz replied as he wiped his mouth with his napkin and grabbed his briefcase and keys. "Be nice," he whispered as he kissed her goodbye.

"Of course. I'm always nice. Don't forget your phone calls."

Fritz nodded and called out, "Clay, I need your dry cleaning now if you want me to take care of it."

After Fritz accepted the bundle of clothes and left, Brenda grabbed the coffee pot and walked into the dining room and started refilling cups. "I've got time for one more cup and then I've got to get to work. What time is Alexis pickin' you up?"

"9:30. We're gonna shop at The Grove for a couple of hours before lunch, and then check out the UCLA campus."

"That sounds like fun, honey. Daddy, I feel bad leavin' you alone all day. What are you gonna do by yourself?"

"I'm going to watch TV and take a walk. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Well, I showed you how to work the remote controls on the TV and I wrote down the channel guide number for you. You know where we put the spare key, and there's plenty of lunch meat and potato salad in the refrigerator."

"Don't worry about him, Aunt Brenda. I'll make sure the TV is on the Velocity Network before I go. He'll be fine."

"Thanks, Charlie. Ok, Daddy, it sounds like you have everythin' you need. If you decide to take a walk, be careful not to let Joel out. You both have our cell numbers in case you need us. Charlie, have a great day. Bye." And with that, Brenda was out the door.

* * *

At dinner Fritz turned to Charlie and asked, "How was your tour of Los Angeles with Alexis?"

"We had a great time. I bought a new belly button ring and a new pin for my eyebrow. And I ordered a nose ring like Alexis'. They're gonna mail it to me."

"Belly button ring?" Clay exploded. "You mean you pierced _that_ too?"

"Sure. It looks great when I wear shorts or my bikini," Charlie replied and then changed the subject. "Grandpa, Alexis took me to her grandmother's home. You should see it. It's gorgeous. It's got tile everywhere and a staircase you wouldn't believe. And it's got all this Buddhist statuary. Did you know she's a Buddhist?"

"Who? Alexis or Lily?" Clay asked.

"Lily. I think she's the first Buddhist I've ever met. Have you ever met any other Buddhists, Aunt Brenda?"

"Sure. When I was workin' cases in Chinatown just about everyone was a Buddhist."

"There are some Chinese kids at Georgetown. I'll bet most of them are Buddhists too."

"That Lily is one of a kind," was all Clay said.

_He's such a Baptist. I never thought much of religion, but if Lily bein' Buddhist will slow him down, I might have to change my mind_, Brenda thought.

* * *

Wednesday night, Brenda stayed late at work. She called Fritz and told him that she had to have a report ready for Steve first thing in the morning and that the information she needed was late coming in. That was a lie. The truth was that she couldn't bear to see everyone fawning over Clay and helping him get ready for his date. And she knew she would not be able to tolerate his talking about it when he returned.

_No, if he's gonna do this to Mama's memory, he's gonna do it without me there watchin'. _She stayed at the office until she was sure that Clay would be home and everyone would be asleep. Then she drove home, tiptoed into the apartment and got ready for bed.

When she finally slid under the covers, Fritz rolled over and said, "Congratulations. You managed to completely avoid your father."

"I told you I was workin'. I had to get that report finished for Steve."

"Brenda, let's set aside the fact that you lied to me – again. But you lied because you couldn't deal with your feelings. You need to think about that."

"I know you think I need to talk to Daddy about this whole datin' business, but I don't want to hear about it. And, anyway, I don't know what to say." If she had faced the truth she would have had to admit that she was really afraid that if she said anything at all, she'd say something that would hurt her father.

"Why don't you and Clay take a walk tomorrow and talk? You can stuff your pockets full of tissues in case you cry."

Brenda was annoyed that Fritz saw right through her. So she just shook her head and asked, "How did Daddy seem when he got home?"

"He seemed happy, Brenda. He said that he had a really good time and that he had forgotten what dating was like."

"He used that word?"

"Yes."

"I told you it was a date."

"And you were right. But he's going home in two days so there won't be another one."

"Oh, I'm not worried about him with Lily. They have nothin' in common. Besides, he's too much of a hell fire and brimstone Baptist to ever get seriously involved with a Buddhist. But if he had such a good time, he'll start datin' again in Atlanta. I'm sure of it."

"If you're still upset, you really should talk to him tomorrow before we do the inspection."

"I know you're right. I know I can't stop him and I just don't know if I can hold it together."

"You are the strongest woman I know. You can do it, hon."

* * *

After breakfast, Brenda asked Clay if he'd like to take a walk with her but, to her surprise, he declined saying he had a headache. "Maybe it was that wine I had at dinner. I don't know how you drink it. Give me two fingers of bourbon any time."

Charlie busied herself doing her laundry so Brenda and Fritz took a short walk. Once they were out on the sidewalk, Brenda said, "Well, that didn't exactly go like I'd planned."

"Maybe Clay is avoiding you. Maybe he knows how you feel."

"Yeah, maybe. But I was hopin' that he couldn't sleep last night from feelin' guilty over the way he was carryin' on."

"Brenda, he hasn't done anything to feel guilty about. If he's ready to start dating again, he's going to date. Period. You're going to have to get used to it."

"Well, we'll see about that."

"What do you think you can do about it?"

"Nothin', Fritz. I don't think there's anythin' I can do about it. But I don't have to like it."

He knew better than to say anything further so they finished their walk in silence.

* * *

Carol Franklin was waiting in front of the house when they pulled up. Fritz introduced her to Clay and Charlie and they walked to the front door.

"Well, this is it," Fritz said happily as they entered the foyer.

Clay stepped into the living room and said, "This is nice. Real nice." Fritz and Brenda both caught the surprise in his voice.

They threaded their way around the Hansons' boxes, through the kitchen and the master bedroom. When they got to the second bathroom, Charlie said, "I hope you like blue."

"We're gonna change that later on," Brenda explained. "We'll paint the walls white before we move in. Hopefully that will tone it down a little. But we'll leave the tile and fixtures alone for now and change them out later on."

"White walls will help," Clay agreed, "And the fixtures are in good shape."

_He's bein' so reasonable, downright positive, _Brenda marveled. _Don't tell me that dinner with Lily worked that miracle. _

"This will be the guest room since it's so close to the bathroom and the one on the other side will be a storeroom," Brenda explained.

Fritz's enthusiasm was building as they moved from room to room. "As you can see, this is a play room now, but we're going to use it as an office. Two desks and a day bed should fit nicely in here. If we were in this house now, Charlie, you wouldn't have to sleep on the living room floor."

"I don't mind, Uncle Fritz. But this is really nice, or it will be when you finish paintin' the kids' rooms."

"Those are very nice book cases," Clay observed.

"We think so too, Daddy."

"Let's go out through the lanai and look at the backyard," Fritz suggested.

"Good idea," Charlie agreed. "I want to check out the pool."

Clay stood by the pool looking around, then said, "This is real nice, having the patio partially screened in. I guess you'll need to buy some pool and patio furniture."

"We've got the patio furniture. It's in our storage unit. But the pool furniture will have to wait until later. We need to spread out some of our expenses."

"Well, I'd like to buy some for you. A house warming gift."

"Thank you, Daddy, but you can't carry pool furniture onboard a plane."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Aunt Brenda. My dad and I can help Grandpa. We can order it online and have it shipped to you."

"Thank you, Clay. And you too, Charlie. Brenda and I would love that."

"You're welcome. What is that building?" Clay asked.

"That's our outbuilding," Fritz replied. "Let's take a look." The two men walked across the lawn while Brenda and Charlie walked back into the house.

Once inside, Brenda turned to her niece and asked, "Tell me, Charlie, how do you feel about Grandpa startin' to date again?"

"It's ok, I guess. Mom and Dad both say that even though he's started meetin' some of his buddies at McDonald's for breakfast, he's real lonely when you're not there. And havin' dinner with Lily certainly improved his mood."

"It sure did. But aren't you even a little worried that he's forgettin' Grandma?"

"Nah. After all the years they were married? He's not forgettin' anythin'. But you're worried, aren't you?"

Brenda was surprised that her niece read her mind so well. "Yeah, I am. A little. I just can't imagine him datin' so soon after Mama died."

"He just wants someone in his life. One reason I haven't been home more often is that he's been so miserable to be around. His non-stop criticizin' has become the norm. I think it would be great if he found someone who makes him happy again."

"I guess," Brenda said.

"Haven't you noticed how much better his mood has been since his dinner date? It's like the old Grandpa is back."

"You're right about that," Brenda conceded.

As he drove them all back to the duplex Fritz explained, "I'm going to drop you off at home and then I've got to get to work,"

But Clay's mind was still on the house. "A house just feels so much more settled than an apartment," he observed. "I'm glad you found such a nice one."

"I'm glad you like it, Clay. The timing was right and we caught a lucky break."

* * *

When he got home from work that evening, Fritz asked "How does everyone feel about Cuban Chicken for dinner tonight?"

"What's that?" Clay asked.

"Daddy, I think you'll like it. It's grilled chicken with a spicy fruit glaze. And we usually get it with black beans and rice."

"We had it when I was here before and I loved it," Charlie said. "I liked it so much that when I got to Georgetown, I looked for a place that had it."

"Well if you think it's that good, I'll try it."

"Ok, I'll go get it. Charlie, why don't you come with me? You can help me carry everything."

"Sure, Uncle Fritz, let me grab my jacket."

Brenda knew why Fritz had taken Charlie with him and she was trying to organize her thoughts before she spoke to Clay. The problem was that she didn't know how to begin, but Clay got there first.

"Brenda Leigh, I want to talk to you."

"What about, Daddy?"

"I've been irritated with you all week and you didn't deserve it. You seemed… I felt… I thought you seemed too happy."

"Too happy?"

"Yes. It felt like suddenly Willie Ray didn't matter to you."

"Oh, Daddy, that's not true. I miss Mama terribly. I think about her every single day."

"I know you loved your mother. But it seems… I don't know if this will make sense… It seems like you and Fritz are moving on with your lives and leaving Willie Ray and me behind." Clay was shocked that Brenda started to laugh.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm not laughin' at you. I'm laughin' because I was upset with you for goin' to dinner with Lily because I thought you were leavin' Mama behind."

"No, I'm not leaving Willie Ray behind. Her memory will be with me the rest of my life. But I've never met a woman like Lily and I wanted to get to know her better. I had a good time, but we're from two different worlds. So, even if she lived in Atlanta, we wouldn't keep on dating. But I'm tired of being all alone. You have Fritz so you might not understand how lonely I am. There's something special about being with a woman. And I want to date again. Now, I'm not saying I'm ready to get married tomorrow. Don't get that idea. But your mother and I had a wonderful relationship and, well, I miss it."

"That's what Fritz said."

"Can you understand that I want to find someone again?"

"I think I'm startin' too. I can't say I completely understand it, but I know how lonely I'd be if somethin' happened to Fritz."

"That's how I feel. And it's not disloyal to your mother. I don't ever want you to think that." And then he continued, "You know, I'm really glad I came out here so we had this chance to talk. When Joyce called me and asked if I'd consider coming with Charlene, I almost refused."

This surprised Brenda. "Why, Daddy?"

"Because I knew I'd have to stay in the guest room and I didn't think I could stand being in that room, let alone the same bed where your mother died."

"We knew that would be hard so we rearranged the furniture and put new sheets and a different duvet on the bed for you."

"Thank you, it helped. But I still don't understand why it's taken you so long to move out."

"I needed to face a lot of memories first."

"I can understand that. Just being in that room with your mother's memory helped me."

"It helped you too? I know it helped me," Brenda smiled through tears.

"Just sitting with her memory helped convince me that it was time to go back to living, and Lily helped too." Clay saw the tears start to escape her eyes. "But I certainly don't want you to think that if I do start seeing someone that I'll no longer need you."

Brenda felt her emotional upheaval settling like the tumblers of a lock falling into place. She wiped her tears and hugged her father. "Daddy, I love you."

* * *

As Brenda and Fritz were putting the chicken on the table, Charlie called out, "Uncle Fritz, you're on TV!" drawing them both to the living room. "Here, I'll rewind it," Charlie offered.

They watched Fritz leading Garrett Molina in handcuffs to a waiting FBI van as local reporters shouted questions at them. "Good for you, honey," Brenda said.

"Molina's victims were eager to talk. I don't know how you ever made the connection, but I'm glad you did," Fritz replied just as the phone rang.

Brenda turned and answered it. "Oh, hi, Andrea. Yeah, I just saw it… Actually, Steve mentioned the Bentley to me so I asked Sergeant Gabriel to look into it… Yeah, me too… I turned it over to Fritz because the car crossed state lines and it looked like there might have been other incidents… Uh huh, violatin' federal law. Turns out this wasn't the first time… Maybe you can use this to get a plea deal from Dan Hart on the state charges… At the very least it will probably stop his attacks on the DA's office… The media is gonna focus on the federal case… You're welcome… All right… No, Daddy and Charlie are leavin' tomorrow and we're closin' on our house so I'll see you on Monday… You have a good weekend, too."

* * *

"You seem calmer tonight," Fritz observed once they were both in bed. "Are you feeling better about your dad, or is it the closing?"

"It's Daddy," Brenda replied. Then she told him she had been thinking about Charlie's comments. "She's really wise considerin' that she's so young."

"Out of the mouths of babes."

"I was only thinkin' about myself," she continued. "When I think about Daddy… Well, I guess I was bein' selfish."

"When it comes to your father, believe me, you are anything but selfish."

"Since you set it up so beautifully, Daddy and I talked before dinner. The funny thing was that his bad mood was because he was thinkin' that I was forgettin' all about Mama."

"So you're ok with him going on with his life?"

"Well, I won't promise not to get knots in my stomach, but I understand that he wants someone to be a part of his life, especially since all of us kids have our own lives. I've been thinkin' about it and, you know, it actually would take some of the burden off of me."

* * *

There were several hugs and kisses goodbye at the airport, then Brenda and Fritz got some breakfast and headed into the city for the closing.

After signing all the papers, Bill Hanson handed Fritz a set of keys and said, "We're leaving early Sunday morning. We'll leave the other set of keys in the kitchen drawer, along with the business cards of companies we've used. And we've also written down a few helpful hints for you. We'll leave those in the drawer, too."

"Thank you both. I know we're going to love the house," Fritz said shaking Bill's hand.

"We made a lot of wonderful memories in that house," Sherrie said, "I hope you do too."

"I'm sure we will," Brenda replied.

Walking back to their car, Brenda looked at her husband and said, "I'm waitin'."

"Waiting for what?"

"I'm waitin' for your feet to touch the ground again."

"I admit to being happy. I just wish you were as happy as I am."

"I'm not unhappy. It's just that all this change… I don't know... Change is…"

"I know. 'Change is bad'."

"I was about to say that change is hard."

When he heard that, he squeezed her hand and said, "Have I ever told you that I love you?"

"No, you haven't. Tell me more," as she took his arm and smiled up at him.

* * *

When they got home, Brenda remembered something. "There's just one more thing I need to do before I forget." She picked up the phone and called Bernice Nagel. After she told her that they would be moving, Brenda offered to let her see their apartment in order to help her decide if she wanted to purchase it.

"I spoke to the office and there aren't any other first floor units available. But, I don't know about buying your place. I need to know if there are any bullet holes or blood stains in it."

Brenda stifled a giggle, "No, Bernice, nothin' like that. If you want, why don't you come down now and take a look?"

After Mrs. Nagel walked through the apartment she turned to Fritz and said, "Your wife was kind enough to offer your services if I need help moving."

"Of course, we'd both be glad to help you," Fritz replied.

"Well, my son has said that he'll take care of moving me, but I want you both to know that I do appreciate your offer."

"You're very welcome, Bernice," Brenda smiled. "If you do decide you want this apartment, we're movin' out at the end of May."

"You're very sure that that horrible man won't come back here?"

"Yes, we're sure. He's gonna spend the rest of his life behind bars so you'd be safe here."

"Well, in that case, thank you both. I'm going to contact CoastProp Management tomorrow morning."

* * *

They unlocked the door to their new home and carried in all the paint paraphernalia they had collected, then Fritz went back to the car and brought in a blanket and a small pillow.

"What's that for?" Brenda asked.

"I thought we could get started on my top priority."

She was beginning to get the idea so smiling, she asked, "And that would be?"

He put his arms around his wife and said, "I want to make love to you in every room in our new house."

"Well, you need to reorder your priorities for the time bein'. The only tool you're gonna get any use out of today is that power painter you rented."

"Killjoy," Fritz was pretending to sulk.

"Waitin' is character buildin', Casanova. Besides, we're not rentin' somethin' and then not usin' it. Now, where's the maskin' tape so I can start tapin' up the woodwork in our bedroom?"

Fritz didn't reply. He just sighed for dramatic effect, then dug around in the bags until he found a roll of blue masking tape and handed it to her.

* * *

"Dr. Leonard, even with everythin' that went on I didn't have any nightmares or flashbacks. It was important to me that I lick them before we move, and I feel like I've done that," Brenda concluded after telling her about the events in their lives since their last visit.

"Brenda, you still could have more flashbacks. But you are processing them better."

"Well, I don't like hearin' that I could still have more flashbacks, but I'm glad to know that I'm handlin' them better."

"Yes, you are. And that's an important step to eliminating them. How about you, Fritz? How have you handled everything?"

"Everything has been good, doctor. Busy, but good. I haven't had any more nightmares and I think the last time I've given Phillip Stroh any thought at all was when we were last here. And I've been so proud of the way my wife has handled all the stress."

"You both have shown an impressive amount of improvement over the past few months."

"Does that mean you're gonna take me off the medication?"

"Not yet. I know you'd like to stop taking it but I don't think you're ready yet. So I'm going to give you another refill prescription today." When she saw Brenda's disappointment she asked, "What are you thinking?"

"I guess I have mixed feelin's. I don't like takin' medicine, but I don't want to start havin' flashbacks again."

"When the time comes, we'll wean you off the medication slowly. It's very important that you not quit taking it abruptly," Dr. Leonard cautioned. "And, of course, we'll continue with therapy."

"I'm a little disappointed," Brenda admitted. "I thought I was doin' so much better."

"You both are doing extremely well, but there are no magic cures. You're still dealing with the effects of trauma and you've got a major move coming up. I think continuing therapy is important for you both."

"All right, Doctor," they both agreed.

* * *

After the painting was completed, the cabinets and floors refinished, and new appliances were installed, moving day finally arrived. The crew put the last of their furniture and boxes on the moving van. Brenda stood in the doorway of the duplex watching the men close the back of the truck capturing everything they owned and getting ready to head down the street toward their new house. Fritz came up behind her and folded his arms around her. "Are you ok?" he asked softly in her ear.

"I think so. But I'm gonna miss this place. There are a lot of memories here... Mama… Our weddin' reception…" Her voice trailed off.

"We'll take those memories with us. And we'll make plenty of new ones in our new home."

She leaned back into him. "I know we will. Movin' on is just hard for me."

As he drew his arms tighter around her, he murmured, "I'm right here, and we're moving on together."

* * *

After all the unpacking, organizing, and settling in was completed, Brenda looked around at all the things they'd brought with them and drew comfort from their familiarity. She smiled, realizing that the things they had accumulated represented mile markers in their lives. They reminded her that her path wasn't hers alone. And, even though it was often difficult and twisted, that path had led them to this place. It was a good place. It was a safe place. And she and Fritz would work together to make it home.

_The End._

**And, once more, I'm begging for your review.**

17


End file.
